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CONTENTS. 

The Cask of a Conscience .... Abbe Carter Goodloe, '89 1 

Edwabd Rowland Sill Emma Phinney, '95 6 

The Day Dead S. C. W., '95 12 

Was He Wise? Margaret Young Henry, '97 . . 12 

Some Mountain Sketches .... Winifred Watson, '96 . . . 15 

Hammock Sketches . . . . . . Dorothy Allen .... 18 

To A Cloud . . ' M. O. Malone, '98 ... . 23 

The Flight from Alphen Bridge . . . Edna Violett Patterson, '98 . . 23 

Fancies Lottie Evelyn Bates, '98. . . 26 

Extracts from Helen Huntsman's Journal Josephine H. Batchelder, '96 . . 26 

Editorials 33 

Free Press 35 

Book Reviews . ' . . . . . . 41 

Books Received 42 

Society Notes 43 

College Bulletin 44 

College Notes . 45 

Alumna Notes 47 

Married 53 

Born 54 

Died •• 54 



idol id — ©ctober, 1895 — mo. i 



Entered In the Post Office at Wellesley, Uau,, as second-class matter. 



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The Wellesley Magazine. 



Vol. IV. WELLESLEY, OCTOBER 12, 1895. No. 1. 

EDITOR IN CHIEF. 
JOSEPHINE H. BATCHELDER. 
ASSOCIATE EDITOR. MANAGING EDITORS. 

MARY HEFFERAN. ALETHEA LEDYARD. 

ELIZABETH A. STARK. 

LITERARY EDITORS. 

AGNES L. CALDWELL. HELEN P. MARGESSON. 

MABEL A. CARPENTER. ANNIE F. WILSON. 

MAUDE R. KELLER. MARY WOODIN. 

The Wellesley Magazine is published monthly, from October to June, by a board of editors 
chosen from the Senior Class. 

All literary contributions may be sent to Miss J. H. Batchelder, Wellesley College, Wellesley, Mass. 

All items of college interest, and communications to be inserted in the department of Free Press, 
will be received by Miss Mary Hefferan, Wellesley College, Wellesley, Mass. 

All alumnae news should be sent to Miss Maude R. Keller, Wellesley, Mass. 

Advertising business is conducted by Miss Elizabeth A. Stark, Wellesley College, Wellesley, Mass. 

Subscriptions to the Magazine and other business communications should in all cases be sent to 
Miss Alethea Ledyard, Wellesley College, Wellesley, Mass. 

Terms, $2.00 per year; single copies, 25 cents. Payment should be made by money order. 

THE CASE OF A CONSCIENCE. 

Miss Eonald often bitterly remarked, in the course of her college 
career, that she had a natural talent for getting herself into trouble which 
was quite unparalleled, and that when there were no embarrassing and trying 
positions ready and waiting for her, that she could generally be relied upon 
to create them for herself and her friends. The truth of this remark, so often 
repeated, seemed particularly emphasized by an unfortunate event of her 
sophomore year. She always blamed herself most severely for what hap- 
pened in spite of her friends' protestations that they would probably have 
done the same in her place. But Miss Eonald would shake her head sadly 
and insist that it had all been her fault, and that she was most sorry for it. 

The facts of the unfortunate incident were these : and if they seem un- 
important and trivial to those who are only interested in bimetallism, or the 
Nicaragua Canal, or the Geographical Congress, or Salisbury's new ministry, 
let that one remember that the point of view is everything, and to one pos- 
sessed of the true college spirit, college life is of more importance than mere 
worldly or scientific affairs can possibly be. 

It was peculiarly distressing that Mr. Perry Cunningham, who had in 
an already recorded manner brought much trouble upon Miss Eonald, 



THE WELLE 'SLEY MAGAZINE. 



should again be the comparatively innocent means of getting her into an 
embarrassing difficulty. It was certainly with the most blameless intentions 
that he invited three of his especial friends to drive over to the College with 
him, and he considered it a great misfortune when two of them hurriedly 
sent him word at the last moment that they would be unable to go. He 
would have considered it a still greater misfortune if he could have foreseen 
the consequences of their unavoidable absence. 

As it was, he drove over with only Dalzell beside him, and the back 
seat of his trap empty, and was only restored to cheerfulness by the very 
cordial welcome which Miss Ronald and her special friend, Miss Berth wick, 
gave him. After all, Mr. Perry Cunningham always claimed that it was 
really DalzelPs fault, because as that youth had never been to the College 
before, Miss Ronald and Miss Berth wick insisted upon his seeing it most ex- 
haustively ; and after he had been led through endless corridors and into an 
appalling number of rooms and out upon piazzas, the young women said 
most positively that he must see the grounds, and the boathouse, and lake, 
and a great many equally interesting and remote objects. And it was as 
they leisurely emerged from the %>orte-cochere, on their way for a look at 
the tennis courts and the Art Building, that they unfortunately caught sight of 
the trap and horses where they had been left standing. 

" Why not drive over?" suggested Cunningham, eagerly. 

"That's a most brilliant idea of yours, Cunningham," remarked Dalzell, 
cheerfully ; " and I consider it particularly stupid of you not to have thought 
of it before." 

The young women agreed perfectly with the first part of Dalzell's speech ; 
and although driving off in a trap with young men in that cool style and be- 
fore the whole college is not a thing which is customarily or safely done, 
still, Miss Ronald said she could see no objection to going with them as far as 
the Art Building. 

It was after they had taken a leisurely and critical survey of the exterior 
of that structure, viewed from the trap, that they were tempted. Cunningham 
said they need only go for a short drive ; and Dalzell insisted that as they 
were safely in, and had escaped detection and all embarrassing consequences 
so far, that they might as well go on and enjoy themselves thoroughly. Miss 
Ronald was a little doubtful, but couldn't remember any rule which provided 



THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 



for just such occasions, although she was quite sure that she would not care 
to have the Faculty know of it ; and Miss Berth wick, who was only a 
Freshman, and was not supposed to he up on such matters, said that she had 
always heard a man was innocent until found guilty, and that she thought 
that covered the case. She seemed so satisfied, so content with her theory, 
that the others bad not the heart to make any disparaging remarks. So 
Cunningham asked Miss Ronald if she did not think the drive to Auburndale 
was perhaps the prettiest to take ; to which that young woman replied doubt- 
fully that she supposed it was, and they started off. 

But they never got to Auburndale. At Riverside they were tempted 
again. It was Dalzell that time, and he proposed that they should go 
canoeing. He remarked enthusiastically and confidently that he and Mr. 
Perry Cunningham could manage a canoe in a way to astonish Miss Berthwick 
and Miss Ronald, and he declared that the canoes at Riverside were excep- 
tionally comfortable and well-built, and that it was the poetry of motion to 
lie back on easy cushions and glide along in a skillfully managed boat. 

But Miss Ronald was very firm — at first — and said that it couldn't be 
thought of, and that they must go back immediately. 

" Don't you care !" urged Cunningham. "It is awfully pretty farther 
down the river, and Dalzell and I will give you a jolly good row. After all, 
what's the difference between driving and canoeing? It's just a difference in 
manner of locomotion." 

"And they are both just like heat or light, or any of those harmless 
things, — 'a mode of motion,'" put in Dalzell plausibly and eagerly. 

But Miss Ronald said she thought that she and Miss Berthwick had 
already provided enough trouble for themselves by going out without 
permission, or even the formal announcement that they had gone, and that 
she felt especially responsible for Miss Berthwick, who was only a Freshman ; 
to which that young woman replied that her friend need not worry about her, 
and that if one could stand being a Freshman, any little additional trouble was 
of no moment, and that for herself she preferred to take her pleasure first, 
and to trust to Providence to escape all evil consequences. 

It was very late when they drove back, and the conversation, which had 
been spasmodically gay, languished perceptibly as they neared the lodge 
gates. At the Art Building Miss Ronald said, with as much dignity as she 



THE WELLE SLEY MAGAZINE. 



could assume, that she would not trouble Mr. Cunningham to drive them 
farther. 

"I'm sure," remonstrated that young man, "that it will be better to 
take you on up." 

"No, thank you," insisted Miss Ronald, in a sadly firm tone. " We will 
get down here, if you please." 

So the two guests, in a politely mournful way, assisted the young women 
to get down ; and there was much hand-shaking, and lifting of hats, and 
mutual expressions of pleasure and the hope that no complications would 
arise. 

At the door Miss Ronald hesitated for an instant. She would very 
much have liked to go around and get to her own room by a less public 
entrance ; but she thought it rather cowardly of her, and so she marched 
bravely in, with Miss Berthwick walking rather dejectedly by her side. 
Fortunately they did not encounter any one, and Miss Ronald felt much 
relieved in a guilty way. 

They talked it over for a long while that night, — so long, in fact, that 
their light was burning an hour after it should have been out, — and they 
agreed that they had done something of which they were very much ashamed ; 
and they half wished, in a melancholy way, that they had been found out 
and made to answer for their misdeeds. They assured themselves that if 
they did not go and offer an explanation of the whole affair, it was only be- 
cause they would forever regard the episode and their lucky escape as a 
sort of awful warning, and that in future there would be no repetition of 
such an offense. With such virtuous resolutions they turned off their light 
in some trepidation when they realized the lateness of the hour. 



It was about half past nine the following evening, and Miss Ronald was- 
standing in her dressing room, brushing her hair and gesticulating with the 
brush at intervals as she talked through the portiere to Miss Berthwick y 
sitting idly by the table in the study beyond. 

"It's no use trying to keep one's silver things clean; they will tarnish, 

and there is no time " she was saying, when there was a knock at the 

door. 



THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 



She went quickly to the portieres, and as she drew them aside she saw 
at the door, which Miss Berthwick had thrown open, the well-known face 
of Miss Holtayne, an instructor and a strict disciplinarian greatly feared and 
looked up to. There was a moment's awkward pause, and then she heard 
Miss Berthwick, with a premonitory note of tragedy in her voice, saying :• 

" Miss Holtayne ! Do come in ! How kind of you " The words 

■died away in an inaudible murmur. 

Miss Holtayne came into the room and stood by the table. 

"I would like to speak with Miss Ronald," she said, in her quietly 
severe tones. 

That young lady hastily wound up her long hair and came forward. 

"This is a great pleasure," she began, smiling in a troubled fashion, 
and pushing a chair hospitably toward Miss Holtayne. But that lady waved 
it aside, and took her stand uncompromisingly by the table. As she was 
very tall this gave her an unfair advantage, and Miss Eonald suddenly felt 
the utter helplessness of her situation. 

" Miss Eonald," began the older woman, with a touch of severity in her 
manner, " I have been much surprised and disturbed to learn " 

But the girl stopped her with a quick gesture. All her pride rose up. 
She could not stand there and be accused like that, and cross-questioned, 
perhaps, she said hotly to herself. She was not quite that cowardly. She 
would tell all there was to be told, herself. 

" Don't say anything to me just yet," she said, turning to Miss Holtayne, 
with a little gasp. "I would rather tell you myself all about it, and take 
the consequences. Miss Berthwick is not to blame — I ought to have known 
better, — it was my fault entirely. But you see we did not expect to go at 
all. You will believe it was not planned. The men just came over to call, 
and then some way we started off to drive — and then Riverside — perhaps 
you don't know how pretty it is at Riverside, Miss Holtayne? And those 
two boys can manage a canoe beautifully — and we, of course, did not intend 
to stay so late. It was late — awfully — when we got back, and I am ex- 
tremely sony, I assure you, for the whole thing." 

She hesitated, and looked up from the silver brush which she had been 
twisting nervously in her hands, to Miss Holtayne. As she did so, the look 
of puzzled surprise in that lady's face stopped her suddenly and completely. 



THE WELLE 'SLEY MAGAZINE. 



" It was last night we went off driving with two men," she began reck- 
lessly and insistently, after a moment's pause. " We went " 

And then Miss Holtayne showed that if she were a strict disciplinarian 
and a hard examiner, she was also a "thoroughbred." She put up her hand 
quickly. 

"Wait," she said to the girl. "I don't know anything about that 
story, and I don't want to. I didn't come here for that. I came to say 
that your light was burning very late last night, and that I would like you 
to be more punctual about retiring." 

She held out her hand to the two girls. "Good night," she said, 
kindly. " I hope you will sleep well." 

As she turned away from the lamplight, Miss Ronald saw an amused 
smile creep over her shadowed face. Miss Berthwick closed the door after 
Miss Holtayne, and then came over to the table and stood in awed silence, 
looking down at Miss Ronald, who had sunk weakly into a chair. 

" Wasn't Miss Holtayne simply great?" demanded the Freshman, en- 
thusiastically, after a moment's pause. 

" I should say so," assented Miss Ronald, mournfully ; " and we are her 
slaves for the rest, of our college course, and it was a very narrow escape, 
and a most instructive lesson to us ; but the thing that impresses me most 
about it all, is the danger and undesirability of a too-sensitive conscience." 

Abbe Carter Goodloe, '89. 



EDWARD ROWLAND SILL. 

Among the late poets of America classed as minor poets, we find the 
name of Edward Rowland Sill. The fact that he has been until recently 
so little read and known is not due to the inferiority of his verse, but rather 
to the fact that he wrote too little, and died at the very beginning of his 
more serious literary career. 

His life was seemingly a quiet one, and his greatest struggles were 
those of mind rather than of fortune. For this reason his poems tell the 
story of his real life far better than the few events we know. He was born 
in Windsor, Conn., in 1841, and there he passed his boyhood. In 1861 he 
graduated at Yale College, and afterwards engaged in business in California. 



THE WELLE8LET MAGAZINE. 



He returned to New England in 1867, and studied for a time at Harvard 
University, intending to enter the ministry. 

About this time he became dissatisfied with the life around him, and 
finding that theology did not meet the demands of his nature, he gave it up. 
He disliked the conventionality and heartlessness of the life and religion 
which he saw, and endeavored to seek relief in a more active life of work. 
He accepted a position as editor on the New York Evening Mail, and 
brought out at that time the only book of poems published by himself, — 
" The Hermitage, and Other Poems," — which contains his poetic work before 
1868. About that time he married a Miss Sill, of Ohio, who was his cousin. 
Later, he became the principal of an academy in Ohio; and in 1871 he 
returned to California, and taught in the Oakland High School. His success 
as a teacher was great, due largely to his stimulative influence and to his 
deep sympathy. 

In 1874 he became professor of English Literature in the University of 
California, and began to do more distinctly literary work, writing for maga- 
zines and periodicals. He returned to Ohio in 1883, and gave his entire 
time to literary work. The remainder of his life he lived in the beautiful 
Sill homestead, in the village of Cuyahoga Falls. He lived quietly, doing 
much good by bringing brightness and beauty into the lives of those around 
him. 

He was fond of music and flowers ; genial, modest, and approachable 
by every one. His home was a constant source of delight and of culture to 
his neighbors and friends. He died on August 22, 1887, and it is said that 
he " went out of the sight of men, singing on the way." He had let his 
verses go so freely that they appeared in the magazines with his signature 
for several months after his death. 

The keen, tender sympathy of the man can be easily traced in all that 
he wrote. His nature must have been one of rare delicacy and insight, for 
he saw clearly and deeply into the problem of human life, with its mystery 
and its beauty. The tender, ready sympathy, combined with his delicate 
poetic instinct, made him a man whose nobility was shown in his life as well 
as in his poetry. As one reads his poems one is conscious that he was in- 
tensely serious and questioning, and that his poems are not mere specu- 
lations, but that every word is based upon real experience. He wrote in 



THE WELLE SEE Y MAGAZINE. 



various moods and on many and entirely different subjects, but all his poems 
are on the two great themes, — the problem of life, and the beauty of nature. 
Life with its purpose and its meaning was, especially in his early life, a 
great mystery to him. He felt its seriousness, and felt it so deeply that he 
could not be satisfied to take it calmly and placidly. He longed to know 
the meaning, which he could not understand, and which he felt must be 
understood if he was to make his life what it should be. In one of his 
earlier poems he cries to the stars : — 

" Unseal, unseal the secret that ye keep; 
Is it not time to tell us why we live? " 

Life then seemed to him terrible, and, — 

"In its whole blood-written history, 
Only a feverish strife ; 
In its beginning a mystery, 
In its wild ending an agony." 

Yet through it all he even then realized that we 

' ' Are drifting rapidly, 
And floating silently, 
Into that unknown sea — 
Into Eternity." 

While he was in this early state of bewilderment and unrest he longed 
to sepai'ate himself from men, and to be alone with nature, and to hear " The 
one clear, perfect note of solitude." Although he always loved quiet far 
better than the noise and strife of active life, and always found solace in the 
quiet woods and hills, he came to a far nobler conception of life. The clos- 
ing line of the poem "Recall," "Let the man's mind awake to manhood's 
power," shows the higher, stronger view which he later held. 

Even after realizing the fuller meaning of life Mr. Sill at times deeply 
felt the weariness and hopelessness of it all. Yet he came to see the ulti- 
mate good, and to believe in the Divine guidance of the smallest things. He 
says : — 

" The earth ship swings 
Along the sea of fate to grander things." 

His optimism was the sort which is the result of experience, and which 
Mr. Royce says is gained by a true insight into the heart of things. 



THE WELLE SEE T MAGAZINE. 



Mr. Sill believed strongly in experience, and in the experience which 

comes from work in the world and from contact with men. Loving peace 

as he did, he cried : — 

" Take thy place in the crowded land, 
Self-centered in free self-command. 
Let thy manhood leave behind 
The narrow ways of the lesser mind." 

He felt that all which is best in men's lives was the result of struggle, 
and that through the "troubled dreams" man comes to the " holier ones." 
All life was for him a sort of discipline. Even friendship was to teach some- 
thing higher. In the beautiful little poem "Retrospect" he exquisitely 
expresses his belief in the blessedness of experience. He says : — 

" But loves and hopes have left us in their place, 
Thank God ! a gentle grace, 
A patience, a belief in his good time, 
Worth more than all earth's joys to which we climb." 

Just as he felt that all which is of most value in life comes from expe- 
rience, so he believed that all misery, unhappiness, and sorrow is caused by 
the self; that, 

" There is no natural grief or sin; 
'Tis we have flung the pall, 
And brought the sound of sorrow in." 

" The Fool's Prayer," so earnest in its meaning, shows how, with all the 
sensitiveness of his poetic soul, he felt the harshness and discord in life ; the 
purity which is hidden, and the good which is unrecognized ; the sad blun- 
ders and errors of human judgment. 

He had a high and noble conception of God ; a belief in his goodness, 
truth, love, and greatness. He saw the broken image of God regathered in 
the human soul. He continually and pathetically cries for more faith, yet 
he was sure of God's love, and looked upon death, which he did not under- 
stand, as benevolent. His idea of death in " Among the Redwoods" seems 
much like Shelley's : — 

" a resolving back again 



Into the world's deep soul : this is a kind 
Of quiet, happy death, untouched by pain 
Or sharp reluctance." 



10 THE WELLE SLEY MAGAZINE. 

Mr. Sill's interest in nature was only second to his interest in the awful 
problem of life. He loved nature with all the intensity of his great, strong 
soul, and saw in it more than appears to the casual observer. With the 
keen, penetrative power of the poet, he discerned the unseen beauty and 
hidden meaning of it all. It was always the purest and calmest that most 
appealed to him. 

" The unseen beauty that doth faintly gleam 

In stars, and flowers, and waters where they roll ; 
The unheard music whose faint echoes even, 

Make whosoever hears a homesick soul 
Thereafter, till he follow it to heaven." 

He was unusually sensitive to all color, — to every change and least differ- 
ence in shade. In describing a bubble he notices all the different tints : — 

" A hundred rainbows danced and swung 
Upon its surface, as it hung 
In films of changing color rolled, — 
Crimson, and amethyst, and gold, 
With faintest streaks of azure sheen, 
And curdling rivulets of green." 

The light, transparent colors appealed to him more than any others, 
unless it was the soft, dim, hazy, nameless hues, which were suggestive of 
the quiet he so loved. The azure and amber effects are most common, and 
he saw these colors in everything, — from the " azure ripples " to the " azure 
mountains" of California. 

He was easily affected by climate, and loved the South far better than 
the cold North. Often he imagines the North longing for the South. Just 
as he loved peace and quiet, so he loved the hills better than the sea. He 
says of the ocean : — 

" Thy dumb moan saddens me; let me go back 
And listen to the silence of the hills." 

It was probably because of this love of quiet that he was much more 
successful in his pictures of repose than in those of action. In the " Her- 
mitage," his greatest nature poem, he has several descriptions of woods and 
outdoor life. Those showing life and motion seem to me to be crowded 
and overloaded with detail. One, describing his surroundings at night, when 
" there is no sound except the sleepless brook," is exceptionally good. He 



THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 11 

gives the whole atmosphere of quiet and repose with just enough detail to 
suggest the picture to the reader. 

He loved everything in nature; especially the "dear old earth," and 
his mood was unusually responsive to nature. But he did not falsely read 
his own feelings into nature. His poem "Faith" shows his delicate sensi- 
tiveness and discrimination. His imagination was quick and lofty. In 
" Field Notes" and " The Venus of Milo " there are some of the most beau- 
tiful of his pure, imaginative expressions. The closing lines of "Field 
Notes " is especially good in its delicate and fanciful imagery : — 

" And now the close of this fair day was come; 

The bay grew duskier on its purple floor, 
And the long curve of foam 

Drew its white net along a dimmer shore. 
Through the fading saffron light, 

Through the deepening shade of even, 
The round earth rolled into the summer night, 

And watched the kindling of the stars in heaven." 

"The Redwoods," too, has much fancy in it, as, indeed, have most of 
his poems. But it is not tiresome or overwrought. It is the result of his 
intense love of nature. Many passages like the following show a more pene- 
trative imagination, which seems to be the result of his serious thought 
about life : — 

" Oh, if a man could be but as a star, 

Having his place appointed, here to rise, 

And there to set, unchanged by earthly change, 

Content if it can guide some wandering bark, 

Or be a beacon to some homesick soul! " 

He does not personify nature in a tiresome manner, nor overload his 

poems with distinct similes. Many of his single expressions are unusually 

good, and he often uses a sort of suggestive simile. The elegiac poem 

"Home" has some beautiful lines, which make all nature to sympathize 

with the scene : — 

" There the pure mist, the pity of the sea, 
Comes as a white, soft hand, and reaches o'er, 
And touches its still face tenderly." 

The music of Mr. Sill's poetry is scarcely less beautiful than the 
thought. He uses a variety of verse forms, and uses them well. His late 



12 THE WELLE8LEY MAGAZINE. 

poems are almost faultless in form. He seems to have had a keenly sensitive 
ear, and in several places the rhythm is exquisite. The effect of both 
rhythm and motion is especially good in these lines, from " A Tropical 
Morning at Sea": — 

" Swung to sleep by the swaying water, 
Only to dream all clay ..." 

He was, indeed, a poet of rare genius, and one who was capable of true 
and deep feeling, and who could express his feelings in language both im- 
aginative and musical. His own life seems scarcely less earnest and beauti- 
ful than what he calls real life : — 

" Yea, that is life: make this forenoon sublime, 
This afternoon a psalm, this night a prayer, 
And time is conquered and thy crown is won." 

Emma Phinney, '95. 



THE DAY DEAD. 

Golden clouds of the sunset west 

Turned wan and gray ; 
Quivering grass that the wind had pressed, 
And quivering, smiled, when the sun caressed, 

Low, sorrowing lay. 
Flowers saddened, and closing, sighed 

When the day died. 

s. c. w., '05. 



WAS HE WISE? 

".The vast sea of beauty, — the vast sea of beauty," — the classic phrase 
had been running in his mind all night. The opera was a strange place to be 
quoting Plato, he thought, with a smile, and it showed what a studious 
recluse he had been ; in fact, how one-sided he had grown in his retirement. 

Below them, on the stage, Marguerite had found the jewel box in the 
garden, and was caroling out her dainty, girlish delight. " I am fair ! I am 
fair ! " she sang, and twisted a gold chain round her neck. Twenty years 
before, he remembered, he had seen Faust. He was a small boy then, and 



THE WELLE SLEY MAGAZINE. 13 

had gone with his mother. He remembered how he had almost cried with 
fear of the cruel-looking man in red, who always appeared with flames. 

"I am fair! I am fair !" still sang the yellow-haired village maiden. 
Could she really think that if she looked up at his box? 

Shyly he glanced round at his companion and gave a little satisfied sigh. 
The lights, and the dainty gowns, and the pretty stage garden, and the 
delicate music sank into a low harmony of sight and sound. It filled his 
sensitive, aesthetic nature with a vague, dreamlike pleasure. Then the doctor 
leaned back and took a long, eager glance. The lady sat a little in front of 
him, her chair turned so that she almost faced him as she watched the stage. 
It was a white, clear-cut face that was turned toward him. It had a broad* 
smooth forehead and deep blue eyes. It was patrician, and perhaps a little 
cold, but withal there was a wonderful spirituality about it that we see in 
some rare, saintly faces. The soft, light hair was coiled high at the back of 
the head. The doctor wondered if she ever wore it in two long braids when 
she was a little girl. What a glorious Marguerite she would make, he 
thought. And he fancied her in the same graceful blue gown that matched 
her eyes so strangely, listening at the cottage window to the tender 
"Margarita!" from the garden. But who should be Faust and call the 
" Margarita ? " Suddenly the young doctor pulled his chair forward sharply, 
and gazed straight at the stage for many minutes. He stared ahead, and saw 
nothing but a whirl of light and figures. But the thought still crowded into 
his mind, " Who should be Faust?" At last he yielded to the witchery of 
the music and the persistent suggestion of the garden scene ; he gave himself 
up to this wild, happy resolve — he would aspire to be her Faust. As for his 
love, — would not the daisies always tell her the sweet truth? So the curtain 
fell on the stage world, and a new rose light streamed through the world that 
the doctor inhabited. 

The evening wore away ; the curtain was up for the last act. The 
lights were low on the stage, and instead of the garden and cottage were the 
bare walls of a prison. Marguerite was pale and grief-worn. Faust stood 
by, bowed with remorse, — Faust, whose love had blighted, as the curse of 
Mephistopheles blighted the flowers. 

A new analogy forced itself upon the professor's mind. If his love 
should ever wither her in any way ! Instantly, like a sudden darkness* 



14 THE WELLE SLEY MAGAZINE. 

came the thought of his poverty. He was still in debt for his university 
course. He knew he was talented ; he hoped that some day his chemical 
work would win him fortune and scientific fame. But now, — yes, there was 
no doubt that chemical experiments took a great deal of money, and his 
salary as lecturer was a very modest one. He had seen women sacrificed to 
poverty before, — had seen them grow worn and old with the cares of the 
poor. He idealized that poverty means more to a woman, and especially to a 
wife, than to a man ; that to a man it means economy and certain material dep- 
rivations, but to his wife it means mental stagnation, or, at the best, a stunted 
culture. Little by little he fought his way through the strength of his love 
and the impatience of his youth, and, like the brave man and true that he 
was, he vowed that he would wait to tell Marguerite of his love until he 
could offer her a name of renown and a home worthy of her grace. 

The curtain fell, leaving deep despair in the scene behind it. Some of 
the gloom was reflected in the professor's own mind. The rosy light had 
dulled a great deal, for there were long, toilsome, perhaps unsuccessful years 
ahead of him. But his honorable resolve was taken, and he was not the one 
to regret it. He turned with a gay remark to the lady in blue and to the 
others of their party, and no one knew why he looked so worn and tired 
that night. 

Two, three years passed. The chemist lectured and worked untiringly. 
He and Marguerite were very friendly, and saw each other when her social 
engagements and his profession granted time. A few years more, and the 
pure-faced Marguerite was married. She consulted her friend the doctor 
in planning the details of the wedding, and his assistance was always at her 
service. 

The chemist's name began to appear very often in the scientific maga- 
zines. Lecturers quoted him as an authority on chemical subjects. He 
published a book which brought him in a large income. But still he boarded 
in the same plain little house, and gave away money with reckless gener- 
osity. He had many friends, but he seldom entered their social gatherings ; 
even they thought he was absorbed in his science. 

A few months ago the great chemist died. Two of his fellow-professors 
were looking through his study afterwards, to decide what should be done 
with the great library. There were books piled on books ; the floor and 



THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 15 

table were strewn with pamphlets and great, dusty tomes. In the midst of 
all the learned disorder, in a corner opposite the desk, the friends spied a 
strange thing, — strange for such a man as the dead professor. It was a 
statuette of Faust and Marguerite. Marguerite was pulling the daisy petals : 
"He loves me, he loves me not; he loves me, he loves me not; he loves 
me." The last petal was in her hand, and Marguerite was looking shyly 
into the face of her lover. 

"Strange, isn't it?" said one, after they had looked silently awhile. 
"How did he come to buy such a thing as that?" 

' ' I wonder what it meant to him ! " said the other. 

Margaret Young Henry, '97. 



SOME MOUNTAIN SKETCHES. 

WITH A PACK TRAIN. 

We were well on our way to the snow line. Our pack train wound in 
and out among the trees, the sleepy-eyed ponies we rode stopping now and 
then to snatch a bite of grass, or stepping awkwardly and deliberately over 
a log, which no amount of urging could make them leap. In the mountains 
even the horses are independent. 

At the head of the pack rode the truest of backwoodsmen — Peter Stump 
by name. His face, under the slouch hat he wore, was as brown and 
weather-beaten as sun and wind could make it. It was crossed and recrossed 
with lines of toil and hardship, and yet it had preserved an almost childlike 
expression about the drooping mouth and deep-set black eyes, and the 
expression suited him oddly, as a child's hat or garment might have done. 
There never was a better pair of shoulders than those nature had allotted to 
Peter Stump. In looking at his shoulders you could forgive him anything 
— and there was much to forgive. 

We rode along a blind trail that led through a forest of red pines set 
far apart in a carpet of grass and flowers ; over slopes where the green of 
the grass shaded into sweeps of purple lupin or scarlet Indian pink; through 
vistas beyond which rose the snowy dome of Adams, clear cut against an 
ocean-deep blue sky. 



16 THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 

But hark ! That was neither the wind in the pine tops, nor the rushing 
of the distant White Salmon, but a shower of blows and curses aimed by 
Peter Stump at some overladen cayuse. 

" I'll beat the hide off your worthless back ! I'll break every bone in 

your body ! I'll " And the sound died away in a confusion of yells, and 

blows, and curses. The animal had sunk beneath its bulky pack. We left 
it, stripped of its burden, alone in that Eden of flowers. 

But the tumult of rage and grief in Peter Stump's face did not subside 
that day. He told us with set teeth how much he had lost by the trip. He 
swore never to make another such an one after he had brought us down 
from the mountain. 

" But," he said, and his face was as simple as a child's, " I ain't agone 
to go back on my contract, if I lose every horse in the pack. That's the 
way I was raised." And I believe it. 

He came for us. We saw his great frame mounted on the foremost of 
his horses away down the mountain side. We complained a little that he 
had brought only two side saddles after promising six ; but no man can keep 
all his promises. It was enough that he had promised at all. So argued 
our backwoodsman, with honesty written in every line of his irascible, 
weather-beaten face. 

" And now you ladies all mount and ride off a little ways, and then I'll 
know how many horses is left to pack." 

This after a vain attempt to solve the problem mentally. We obeyed, 
not wishing to question the expedience of the solution. What is arithmetic 
compared with forest lore? Then we journeyed down the steep slope, safe 
guided along cliff and over torrent, till evening found us in the valley. 

A CASE OF SNOW-BLINDNESS. 

We were crossing the first steep snow field on Mt. Adams, steadying 
ourselves with our alpenstocks, and at every step sinking ankle deep into 
the melting snow. The "Little Major" and I, dressed for climbing, and 
with faces protected from the fierce glare of the sun by veils and cold cream,, 
followed in the rear of the company. 



THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 17 

South of us were innumerable hills, shaded from green to blue and from 
blue to purple, with Hood standing sentinel over all ; while above us was 
the great white dome of our chosen host among mountains, clear cut against 
a wonderfully blue sky. The view was so wide and varied that I had for- 
gotten my smoked glasses till the experienced mountaineer who walked 
ahead, turned and advised me to put them on immediately. I hesitated, 
arguing that my eyes were strong. Then followed such a vivid and detailed 
description of the suffering and danger of snow-blindness that my hand 
slipped into my pocket of its own accord, and the glasses were astride my 
nose before I could form an answer. 

After a while — perhaps it was my imagination — it seemed that every- 
thing was gradually growing dim before me. The mountains south of us 
assumed a uniform grayness of color, and even the heights of Adams, so 
distinct in that thin atmosphere, lost their dazzling whiteness. Some one 
discovered the top of Mt. St. Helens peeping over a ledge at the left, and 
there were cries of delight and admiration. But, though I strained my eyes 
in looking, I could see nothing at all. 

Across the snow field, a few hundred feet, was a ridge of broken rock. 
I determined to reach this ridge before telling the others of my terrible mis- 
fortune, for I knew I was struck with snow-blindness. I imagined that my 
eyeballs burned like living coals, and I felt I should probably lose my sight 
altogether, or meet death in descending the mountain. It was an awful 
half hour. 

And now even the footholds made by those ahead had gi'own indistinct. 
I kept behind, leaning back against the mountain side at each step, stum- 
bling, half-falling, and catching myself again with my trusty alpenstock, 
but keeping on somehow till at last we reached the ridge. I sank upon a 
rock, trembling with fear and nervous excitement. 

"Isn't St. Helens glorious from here !" exclaimed the " Little Major," 
as she perched herself on a rock beside me, crossing her gaitered feet and 
letting her broad hat fall back on her neck. 

"I can't see it," I gasped. 

" Try wiping your glasses," suggested the experienced mountaineer. 

I snatched the cause of all the trouble from my eyes, and looked away 
off at the valleys with their tiny thread-like rivers, and up at the snowy 



18 THE WELLE8LEY MAGAZINE. 

mountains beyond, and back at the " Major's" round, laughing face with its 
ridiculous sunburnt nose and background of wavy brown hair, and said, as I 
wiped the thick layer of cold cream from my glasses, " I mean that I can't 
see it that way, — Mt. Hood is so much finer." 

Winifred Watson, '96. 

HAMMOCK SKETCHES. 



The hammock hung beneath the large cherry tree in the farthest corner 
of the yard. It was a remarkable hammock. Once bright blue, with 
stuffed pillow and gay fringe, it had been strengthened and remodeled by 
the sailors, and its blue so dulled by the rain, that it now had a style and 
color of its own. It was a willful hammock, and had to be managed very 
carefully, for its tricks had turned out more than one rough handler. But 
how comfortable it could be, how luxurious and yielding ! The cherry tree 
threw a constant shade over the corner where it hung. The lily flags and 
rose bushes screened one side, and a white-paled fence the other. Beyond 
stretched a broad field of corn, now cut and tied in glistening, sun-baked 
stacks. The spot was dark, cool, and enticing. What wonder that it was 
seldom unoccupied ! What wonder that the hammock was wise, and had many 
stories to tell me ! 

" So you really go to-morrow?" 

The time was nine o'clock in the evening ; the speaker, a tall young 
woman in a shirt waist, with brown hair coiled tightly, and brown eyes 
shining in the moonlight ; the scene, the hammock under the cherry tree. 
Beside her sat a curly haired young college student, whom she addressed. 

" Yes ; I've got to begin grinding again. I hate the idea." 

" I thought you liked work." 

"I do ; but you see, I've had such a fine time, and it's so hard to break 
from the house and you all." 

"The first days are hard, but you'll soon grow 7 used to it. We'll all 
miss you ; and I, what shall I do without my boy? Who will always play 
croquet with me when time hangs heavy? Who'll always praise my music, 



THE WELLE SLEY MAGAZINE. 19 

and say he likes it when the others have stopped pretending? Who'll stay 
by me when the older men have left for more attractive girls? Who else 
can be so patient and long-suffering? And who, oh! who will tie my 
necktie ? " 

" How absurd you are ! As if every one didn't love to hear you play ; 
and as if — but it's too absurd to say more. Besides, its mean of you to 
laugh when I'm so blue." 

" Are you blue, boy? Come, be gay ; it's your last night, you know. 
To-morrow you will fly away to dust, and noise, and work ; so different from 
these fields and trees, this quiet, and this irresistible laziness. Do you realize 
that, my young friend? It has been a pleasant summer, has it not, and I 
am so sorry that it is over. Do you know that you are quite a different 
boy from the one I first saw? You were so shy, and acted as if you thought 
people were pricing your clothes. And now you are quite bold, — almost too 
impertinent at times. Don't look hurt ; impertinence becomes you, I think, 
though its poor policy to tell you so. Why don't you talk? Don't you 
hear me chattering away to keep up your spirits? Stop looking at the 
moon, and talk to me." 

" Certainly ; anything to please you this last night. Only, it's hard to 
shake off a little natural melancholy, you know. What shall I talk about?" 

" About anything — about yourself." 

"Really, shall I?" 

" Yes, really, you shall." 

" Well, I am going away to-morrow." 

" Weighty fact, but I knew that." 

" I am very sorry to go." 

" Good again, but I also knew that." 

" And I am especially sorry to leave you." 

" Well, I am not sure but I knew that." 

" I am simply overcome with grief." 

" Are you, my poor boy?" 

"But I am, without joking. You don't believe me, my adopted 
cousin ? " 

" Oh yes, I do. Am I not overcome with grief to have you go?" 

" Please don't, Cousin Bess ; I never was more serious in my life," 



20 THE WELLE SLEY MAGAZINE. 

" My dear boy, don't let us be serious ; you quite frighten me." 

" But I will be serious. You told me to talk of myself, and I will now 
with a vengeance. I have to go to-morrow, but I feel as if I couldn't break 
away. You have been so good to me, though you do have an awkward 
way of making fun of me — if you smile now, I shall be angry." 

"lam not smiling." 

"I know that I am some four years younger than you — not twenty 
yet ! So I realize that it is all very absurd. I even try to laugh at it my- 
self sometimes. Oh, I know what you would say — a month at college will 
make me forget ! Well, maybe it will ; I am no different from other boys, I 
suppose. But it does no harm for me to tell you that I am devoted to you, 
does it — that I mind leaving you above everyone else ? " 

"Don't rattle off your words so; don't speak so defiantly. Indeed I 
will not make fun of you ; that would be cruel, and I am not that, though I 
do laugh too much." 

" Cruel ! I should think not. You are always kind and gentle ; you 
always do what is right ; it's only my absurd sensitiveness." 

" I am not different from other girls. Do you not know that to boys 
of your age, we girls seem a wonder of tactfulness ? " 

" I remember everything you say, and think of it afterwards, you see. 
If you only knew how I feel — quite maudlin. I thought I wouldn't make 
myself so soft and silly by telling you, when we are such good friends, but 
I can't help it. I know I am making a fool of myself, but I would do it 
again. You'll forgive me? I couldn't live without your friendship." 

" Oh yes, you could. There's nothing to forgive, Cousin Tom." 

" Then you will let me tell you how I wish to be where you are, — how 
I wish to please you, — how invaluable your opinion is to me? Cousin Bess, 
your boy is your slave ; he is, indeed. He will work so hard this winter 
that his professors will wonder at the sudden fire of ambition that has been 
kindled in him ; and if, perhaps at the end of five years, he has made any 
success in his own little world, you can look at him proudly and think that 
you did it all." 

" Not half, for the foundation is there. But that's the way to talk. I 
ought to say I'm sorry that you've been sentimental with me, I suppose, 
but I am not. Perhaps it gives me an exalted feeling as if I could do you 



THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 21 

good, like the girls in books ; or perhaps it only appeals to my vanity and 
selfishness, you know. And now that you have talked about yourself, — 
but not a bit gayly, you sinner, — let us be gay in earnest, or, better, let us 
go on the porch and give your true cousins a little of your company ; come." 

"If you will — but it is so lovely down here — and — I go to-morrow. 
Why, your eyes are full of tears !" 

"Are they? You didn't know that you had touched my stony heart. 
Or perhaps it is the effect of the moon, which they say makes us silly. 
It's so seldom, you see, that any one likes me." 

" If you talk like that, I will tell you out and out that I " 

" Come, my boy; it really is time we joined the others." 

ii. 

" Hush-a-bye, my little pickaninny, 

Brudder rabbit'll catch you if you don't. 
Slumber on the bosom of yo' ol' mammy Ginny; 
Mammy's goin' to squat you if you don't." 

It was noon of a very hot day. In the hammock were three small fig- 
ures, sitting side by side : a little white boy in ruffled pink blouse and em- 
broidered necktie, and two little darkies in nondescript clothes of a nonde- 
script color, very much like that of their bare arms and legs. The white 
boy held a banjo, which he was plunking, while, with limpid eyes rolled up, 
he drawled out the words above. The other two watched him with momen- 
tarily widening mouths, and eyes also rolled up in sympathy and admiration. 

" Who learned you to play it — who learned you to sing the song?" 

" Brother Tom showed me the chords, and he sings the song fine ; you 
ought to hear him." 

" Sing it again. Doesn't you want to hear it again, Frankey?" 

" Yes. Shing her again, Willie." 

The song was repeated. Frankey and Hatty squirmed and clapped their 
hands with flattering relish. 

" That's real fine," said Hatty. 

"Pooh! that's easy," answered Will, the banjo player. "You should 
see cousin May, her fingers fly up and down so fast, and she makes it trill 
like this, — see. Take your elbow out of the way, Hatty." Will began 
scraping his finger on one of the strings, shaking his whole body and twitch- 



22 THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 

ing like a young sufferer from palsy. " Only I don't do it right, you know. 
It's hard, you know. But I can sing any number of songs. Have you 
heard me sing ' O my honey, tell me true ? ' It's a sweetheart song. It 
goes : — 

" O my honey, tell me true, 
If you love me as I love you." 

" Give it to me to hold a minute. I won't do no harm to it. I kin 
sing a song too, can't I, Frankey." 

" Hatty kin sing ' 01' time 'ligion.'" 

" Well, I would, you see, only it belongs to Cousin May, and she might 
not like it. There, I guess she won't mind, and I'll watch that it doesn't 
drop." 

The banjo was reluctantly given up. 

" O-o ! it's so heavy — it hurts." 

" Now, you see, put that hand up there and strike the strings with this 
hand, so. How funny you do it ! Now sing. Ho ho ! you certainly do 
make me laugh, only it isn't your fault, you know. Now sing." 

" < O de oF time religeon, it jess suit me!" Whee ! what make the 
strings sound so. Stop yo laughin', Frankey. What make the strings sound 
so, Willie?" 

"Because you don't do it right, of course, Jimesy ! I never heard 
such noise. I guess it feels sick when you take it. My, I'm almost sore 
with laughing." 

" Le' me take it — O pl-e-ase, Hatty." 

" Kin I give it to Frankey?" 

"Yes; let Frankey try. It's kinder mean, you know, for us to play 
and not let him try. But I believe he's almost too little to hold it." 

" No ; I ain't. I kin hold it good." 

"All right. Ha ha ! He looks funnier than you, Hatty. Let me keep 
hold of the end. Now run your finger across so." 

" Willie ! " The giggling suddenly choked off, and three pairs of eyes 
looked up in surprise at the astonished face in the window. " Willie, take 
those dirty children out of the hammock. Bring Cousin May's banjo in 
the house, and don't take it out again. Mamma'll have to punish you for 
this ! " 



THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 23 

" We haven't done a bit of harm. Not one of the strings are broken, 
even." 

"What did mamma say? Leave those children and come to me." 
"I don't care; we haven't done any harm." He bit his lips to keep 
from sobbing outright, and turned his brimming eyes on his whimpering 
companions. " It isn't anything to cry about. She's not going to whip 
me. She's really right, because, if we sat here all the time it would wear 
the hammock out, and it belongs to Cousin May. And I might have broken 
one of the strings, you know. Stop crying, Hatty, or I'll cry too. And 
you are not dirty a bit. She didn't mean that, you know. I don't care, 
we've had piles of fun." And he walked up to be punished. 

Dorothy Allen. 

TO A CLOUD. 

O thou lazy, lang'rous thing, 
Floating light on airy wing 

Thro' the sky; 
Like a bank of glittering snow, 
Sinking soft, majestic, slow, 

There on high ! 

Like an anthem, music-filled — 
Like a sweet air, faintly trilled — 

Yet ever lost ; 
Full of rest and calm thou art, 
Bringing peace to sadden' d heart 

And tempest toss'd. 

Downy pillow' d on thy breast, 
Weary Phoebus sinks to rest 

As night draws nigh; 
Thro' thy portals, open wide, 
Silver-sheen' d the morn doth glide, 

In heaven high. 

M. O. Malone, '98. 

THE FLIGHT FROM ALPHEN BRIDGE. 

It was the spring after the great freshet. The floods of the year before 
had whirled away the old wooden bridge over the Yough, and in its place the 
good people of Alphen had built a slender, graceful structure of iron. 



24 THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 

The high spans of the new bridge became apparently an inspiration to 
some hitherto unevoked genius among the staid townspeople. At any rate, 
it soon began to be whispered about that the town contained a second Darius 
Greene. He seemed, indeed, to be of a somewhat more ambitious type than 
his unlucky predecessor, since his flight was to be made from the highest 
point of the new bridge. Whether his inventive genius was also of a higher 
order remained to be seen. 

Where the first faint whisper came from, or who was responsible for the 
rumor, no one could discover. The aspiring Darius lived through all the 
gossip and conjecturing, unknown and unnamed. If, at times, big Capt. Ben 
Sampson did have a knowing twinkle in his little gray eyes when people 
talked about the matter, no one was any the wiser ; for Captain Ben's eyes 
were given to twinkling knowingly. Even sharp old Mrs. Wiggins was 
unable to tell more about the affair than ordinary people. That was rather 
remarkable, too, because Mrs. Wiggins usually knew twice as much about 
things as other people, though she herself could not abide gossip. 

But Mrs. Wiggins did not have much faith in the story anyway. " If 
you think," said she to Captain Ben, " that any sane person, in face o' the 
moral o' that Darius Greene poem, is agoing to fool any more with flyin' 
machines, you must think a sight less o' the boss sense o' human natur' than 
I do." Having delivered herself of this optimistic remark, Mrs. Wiggins 
folded her hands complacently, and " thanked her stars" that she was no kin 
of such a " lunertic" anyway, whoever he might be. 

Big Captain Ben innocently agreed with her, as that was always the safest 
thing to do. But his eyes fairly twinkled under the broad brim of his soft, 
gray hat, and he laughed to himself all the way down to his boat. 

The townspeople were divided in their opinion of the story. The 
doubting ones shook their heads in a dignified way, and said that it was 
nonsense ; the credulous ones thought that they were going to be eye- 
witnesses of a memorable event ; and the wise ones did not commit them- 
selves to any opinion. But the wonderful morning found the inhabitants of 
the town seeking places that commanded a good view of the bridge. I 
do not mean to say, to be sure, that the whole town turned out in the ex- 
pectation of seeing a man fly from their new bridge. Old Mrs. Wiggins, 
for example, went to pay a visit to her nephew's wife, of whom she had 



THE WELLE SLEY MAGAZINE. 25 

taken no notice for more than a year. Her nephew, to be sure, lived in 
full sight of the bridge, but that was a mere accident. As for pompous 
Squire Elkins, he had to examine his wharf-landings that morning to 
see about certain repairs, which, by the way, were not made until five 
years later. 

Be all this as it may, when Captain Ben approached the bridge a little 
before twelve that day, he saw a goodly part of the inhabitants of Alphen 
crowding the bridge and the banks of the river. The small boys were 
simply bubbling over with excitement and wild speculations as to the 
appearance of the man and his flying machine. The dignitaries of the town 
lingered half sheepishly by, talking together of indifferent matters. 

Captain Ben saw a group of his own particular friends on the steps of 
the Frisby House, and his eyes beamed with satisfaction at the sight. The 
Captain joined them, and a moment later all the whistles of the town began 
to shriek their noontide blasts. Scarcely had the noise subsided, when a 
stir of movement on the bridge seemed at last to promise satisfaction to the 
open-mouthed curiosity of the people. 

Then suddenly the crowd diminished ; not visibly, or to the eye of a 
chance spectator, but each individual there, separately, and in his own inner 
consciousness, grew smaller. For there rose from the bridge, not what they 
had longed to see, a man with wonderfully devised wings, but simply and 
solely a great white goose. It flapped awkwardly about for a few minutes, 
and then flew off down the river, cackling derisively the while. 

Half an hour later it would have been hard to find out just what had 
happened at the bridge, there were so few people who remembered having 
been there. The people who had stayed away never got very satisfactory 
answers to their inquiries about the flight. Old Mrs. Wio-gins has not been 
to see her nephew's wife from that day to this, and it is even said that she 
has cut her nephew out of her will. 

The only person who seemed really to enjoy the affair was big Captain 
Ben. He always took a wicked delight in asking his fellow-townsmen if they 
had seen the man fly from the new bridge. Especially did he torment his 
friends who had stood on the steps of the Frisby House. 

Edna Violett Patterson, '98. 



26 THE WELLE SLEY MAGAZINE. 



FANCIES. 

Full many a tale could the old moon tell, 
But her secrets she still keeps well : 

How the moonbeams white, 

On a sweet June night, 
Lightly dance in dusky dell. 

How they slyly peer where the strawberries creep, 
Safely hidden in shadows deep; 

And with sudden gleam, 

While the violets dream, 
Gently kiss them all in sleep. 

How they glitter and shine with a radiance bright, 
Like the rainbows in diamond light, 

When the year is old, 

And the nights are cold, 
And the world a ghost in white. 

How they quickly peep when the dawn is near, 
At old Jack Frost's castles queer; 

How a sunbeam falls 

On the turret walls, 
And dispels them all in fear. 

Full many a tale could the old moon tell, 
But her secrets she'll still keep well; 

Till her shimmering light, 

On a sweet June night, 
Shall have lost its magic spell. 

Lottie Evelyn Bates, '{ 



EXTRACTS FROM HELEN HUNTSMAN'S JOURNAL. 

Yarmouth, Nova Scotia, August 2, 18 — . 

"How do you like Yarmouth?" is the question with which we are 
invariably greeted by each old resident whom we meet. And we say we 
like it well, as far as we yet know its long, quiet streets, its fields of daisies 
and buttercups, and its glimpses of blue sea between the hills. The ocean 
trip on the Boston was delightful, — that is, it was delightful until Captain 
Stanwood unkindly remarked, as he took our tickets, that there was a 



THE WELLE SLEY MAGAZINE. 27 

"heavy swell on." Upon that, Aunt Harriet produced her bottle of Brush's 
Remedy for Seasickness, and I raised my eyes from the beautiful, broad wake 
the ship was making, with a queer little feeling of lonesomeness in my throat ; 
for although I am very fond of Aunt Harriet, and think it very good of her 
to invite me to take this trip, still, there are people and people, and one can't 
help thinking of that when one is starting on a four-weeks' vacation, espec- 
ially, I believe, if it is a sea voyage. But we slept beautifully, notwith- 
standing the swell, and awoke to find ourselves in full sight of this corner 
of the queen's domain. We took a vivid interest in rounding Yarmouth 
light and swinging into the harbor, and as the cool wind from the northern 
sea blew fresh in our faces, we declared ourselves ready to enjoy everything 
to the utmost. 

We are at a large, comfortable house on a side hill, just outside the 
town, with a picturesque outlook of country and sea. When we came onto 
the piazza that first morning, and caught the gleam of the blue sea line, 
which meets the western horizon, I could not help exclaiming with delight. 

"That's the Bay of Fundy over there," said a voice close behind me; 
and turning, I saw a stalwart old figure, and strong, weather-beaten face, 
bronzed by the winds of many seas. 

"But," said my Aunt Harriet, adjusting her glasses as she spoke, "I 
studied the map very carefully before I came, and I am sure that on the 
common-school geography that is the Atlantic Ocean." (My Aunt Harriet 
used to be a school-teacher.) 

Our visitor looked at us with a curious twinkle in his eye. " Well," he 
said, slowly, "there was another Bostoner along last summer who expressed 
the same opinion to old Ben Isham, of the Yarmouth, and what do you 
s'mise he said?" 

"What was it?" I asked. 

"He said," went on our guest, gravety, " < dem your common-school 
geographies, ma'am ; if you look on our charts you'll see it's the Bay of 
Fundy.'" 

This was our introduction to the Captain. Aunt Harriet said no more, 
but there was the look in her eyes which means "Danger ahead," and I have 
not yet been able to convince her that he did not mean to be rude, but that a 
life on shipboard must necessarily lead one to express oneself emphatically. 



28 THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 

August 4th. 
I am beginning to get quite well acquainted with the Captain. He is a 
most interesting man. He retired from service several years ago, and lives 
on a farm, which he seems to enjoy much in spite of the contrast with his 
former life. His home is near by, and he comes to smoke his morning and 
evening pipe on our front steps, and tells us the most wonderful stories of 
land and sea. This morning the conversation drifted from Nova Scotia to 
Arctic explorers, and he said, with much earnestness : "They keep a-huntin' 
for that 'ere pole, but they wouldn't know her when they got to her, and I 
should like to know how they are goin' to bring her home. Nobody could 
live after he got there. Them that's been far north say as how its just like 
goin' up a mountain to go north. You see, there ain't much pressure of air, 
and the farther north you get the less air there is, till at the pole there ain't 
none!" I wondered if he would be offended at any expression of doubt. 
Aunt Harriet opened her mouth to speak twice during this recital, and closed 
it again with a sharp click, as if determined to let no provocation tempt her 
out of silence. 

August 7th. 

I am constantly impressed with the genial courtesy and cordiality of 
the people of Yarmouth. When we are watching for the street cai's, people 
invariably invite us to " come in and wait," not with the slightest apparent 
desire to know who we are, but with a genuine hospitality, which might well 
put to shame many a conservative little New England town. It surprised 
me at first that wheels were allowed on the sidewalks outside the business 
center, but after meeting one or two riders, the reason became apparent. 
When the bicyclist comes near, he either dismounts or rides by very slowly, 
raises his cap in the nicest way, and says " Thank you." I was a good deal 
surprised at the first one, but have found it a general custom. 

The characteristic of moderation in all things is very marked. Nearly 
all the heavy teaming is done by oxen, which have long since become too 
slow for the States. Nobody seems to be in a hurry. In a street car, this 
morning, two elderly gentlemen were discussing the news of the day. 
Presently one of them reached his destination, and signaled for the car to 
stop. After the bell had been rung, and he had walked nearly to the door, 



THE WELLE 'SLEY MAGAZINE. 29 

he slowly wheeled about and observed to his companion, "By the way, 
Brother Ladd, do you know how much the church lot sold for?" Brother 
Ladd gave him the figures, and after an additional remark or two the chat 
ended, and the car moved on. The motorman looked pleased, and there was 
a half-amused smile on the faces of the passengers. 

This is the only electric road in Nova Scotia, although there is a horse- 
car line in Halifax, the Captain tells me. The Captain's own mode of con- 
veyance is unique. He took me to ride yesterday behind " old Nell," in a 
curiously fashioned buggy, with a clothesline lash on the whip. He says 
that he lent old Nell to a "female peddler," one day, and that that is the 
reason she wants to stop at every house on the road. It was on this ride, 
too, that he told me of the young man from the States who had " one of 
them 'ere daguerreotype machines what you take likenesses with." 

August 15th. 

We went to the Church of England this morning, and joined with a 
feeling of true loyalty in the prayer for the Queen and Prince of Wales. 
The rector was very young and very earnest. One notices the extreme 
youth of those who have entered upon professional life here. At an evening 
service at a church of another denomination, we listened to a preacher who 
seemed scarcely out of his teens. I think, however, that he was older than 
he looked, for he spoke in an interesting way upon " how we bring up our 
children." 

It is the sunset hour as I write, and I am sitting on the rocks by the 
lake shore, watching the glory fade out of the sky. I think I have not 
written of the lakes. There is a chain of three called Milton Lakes, extend- 
ing some miles inland, and finally joining with the sea. The first lies just 
at the foot of our hill, and the carriage road winds along by the shore, 
bordered with willow trees, beneath which one may find forget-me-nots 
growing wild. It is very beautiful here. Aunt Harriet says she likes the 
spirit of the little lake, which dares contrast its peace and quiet with the 
restlessness of the sea beyond. I rather like the thought ; but it is not 
always peaceful. It has moods. Sometimes it is very impatient of being a 
lake, and dashes up against the small stones and pebbles in quick, angry 
little waves of disappointment. Just now it is very still under rich, dark 



30 THE WELLE8LEY MAGAZINE. 

clouds touched with rose color. I have never before seen purple sunsets, 
but to-night the whole western sky shades from pale violet to deepest royal 
purple. There is no sound. The willows are bending low under the soft, 
strange light, and the water reflects their weird, fantastic forms. Truly a 
mystical world, save for the friendly little strip of emerald shore beyond, 
which lies alone outside the shadows. 



August 20th. 

Yesterday we took a trip inland through the Evangeline country, or 
rather through the edge of it, for we stopped this side of Kentville, at the 
windy little town of Annapolis Royal. There was not much to see there 
except the site of an old French fort, said to be of much historic interest, — 
of just what, I have a very indefinite idea. I can never arouse a proper 
degree of enthusiasm over old ruins and relics. The present seems far too 
interesting. I think I fell perceptibly in Aunt Harriet's good opinion of me 
when I sat down in the shadow of that historic prison, and wrote a letter in 
lead pencil. 

I did enjoy the trip, however, especially the part between Digby and 
Annapolis, where the track follows close along the winding shores of the 
beautiful Annapolis Basin for sixteen or eighteen miles. The opening from 
the Basin into the ocean, called " Digby Gut," looks very narrow, and the 
view through this little porthole shifts constantly, suggesting the quick-sliding 
pictures of a camera. And in the background or at the side of each picture 
lies the little town of Digby, sleeping on the hill, with its queer, low houses, 
and quaint church spires looking up into the blue. We came home through 
the sunset on the "Flying Bluenose Express," tired and hungry after our 
ride of one hundred and eighty miles. 

To-day we are glad to rest, and think how well pleased we are with 
Yarmouth. I like it all, — the soft English hedges, which are kept well 
trimmed before the houses of rich and poor alike ; the bright flowers which 
one sees in nearly every dooiyard ; and, best of all, the Yarmouth light, 
which shines out across the harbor at the edge of the twilight with such a 
friendly greeting. Even the fogs do not seem depressing, because they are 
so full of the sweet salt air of the ocean, and feel good when they strike 



THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 31 

against one's face. I like to say " God save the Queen " at the end of public 
entertainments, and wish we said " God save the President" at home. I 
think I shall never remember to turn to the left when driving, but I have 
finally learned to speak of a great number of inanimate objects as " she." 
I was proud of myself this morning when I looked at the clock and remarked 
to our hostess that she had run down (not meaning Mrs. H.). 

August 23d. 

A reconciliation has taken place between Aunt Harriet and the Captain. 
I had begun to fear she would never appreciate him thoroughly ; but this 
morning he came up the walk with a spray of wild flower in his hand, and 
asked her if she knew what it was. She was so surprised at his question 
that she quite forgot herself. 

' ' You don't mean to say you don't know roman wormwood when you 
see it ? " she ejaculated. 

" Can't help it whether it's Roman or Greek," replied the Captain ; " I 
never see it in Nova Scotia before." 

" Well," said my aunt, " what a blessed country this must be for hay- 
fever victims." 

And then followed an animated discussion of flowers and weeds in 
general ; for if there is any one thing Aunt Harriet prides herself on, it is 
her knowledge of botany. The Captain proved an attentive listener, and at 
dinner she remarked incidentally that he seemed to have his good points. 

The Captain and I are the best of friends. He is very fond of poetry, 
and quotes at length from many English writers. Byron is his favorite, 
although he says " there is some of the finest language in ' Lally Rook' that 
was ever wrote." 



August 25th. 

Yesterday the Captain took me to Bay of Fundy shore. I think I shall 

never forget that afternoon. We were not at the highest part of the bay, 

but there were beautiful broad waves, which broke over jagged rocks with a 

report like heavy Cannon, and with a glory of white surf, colored in the sun- 



32 THE WELLE SLEY MAGAZINE. 

light, which I have no words to describe. I sat watching them for a long 
time, and the dear old Captain stood beside me, bareheaded, quoting line 
after line of Childe Harold. "Yes," he said, at length, as he gazed rather 
wistfully out to sea, " there's nothing like Byron on a long voyage. No- 
body ever knew the moods of the sea better than he did. In fair weather, 
breeze t'er west'ard, there'd be a passage for that. Come a storm, wind 
a-howling thro' the riggin', I'd take up my Byron, and there 'twas, all described 
in the grandest language man ever wrote. Yes, Miss Helen, in fair weather 
or foul, give me Byron ! " 

On the Steamer Boston, August 30th. 

We have said good-by to our Yarmouth friends, and are fairly started 
on the home trip. I have just read over my journal, and have smiled a little 
to see how large a part the Captain plays throughout. But it is true that I 
have enjoyed him thoroughly, and that much of the pleasure of the weeks in 
Nova Scotia has been due to the good friendship between us. I remember so 
well how he looked when I went to say good-by. The door was open, and as 
I stood at the threshold, I could see him sitting on the low, old-fashioned sofa 
within. His wife was kneeling before him, trying vainly to straighten his 
necktie ; and as he sat there looking down at her, — for she is a very little 
woman, — there was the look in his eyes which I am sure he must have had 
some forty years ago, when, as he tells the story, he found her standing 
alone by the railing of the boat Research, and thought to himself, " A man 
never had a better chance to kiss a girl," — and straightway did it ! 

" Well, Miss Helen," he said, as he shook my hand, " ' It may be for 
years, and it may be forever,'" and his wife remarked brightly, as she dusted 
his coatsleeve, " I may be able to shake off the dust, but I can never brush 
the poetry off him." 

There was a queer lump in my throat when I said good-by, and realized 
that I should probably never see the Captain again ; and the feeling is not 
quite gone yet, though I am happy in the thought of the people who will be 
waiting for me at the end of the trip. 

Josephine H. Batchelder, '96. 



THE WELLE 'SLET MAGAZINE. 33 

EDITORIALS, 
i. 

Once again we beg to remind the readers of the Magazine that the law 
of common courtesy demands that we trade, as far as possible, with the firms 
who place their advertisements in our pages. Too often the report comes to 
us from business men that they gain nothing from their connection with the 
college periodical, and the inevitable result will be, if not in this, in coming 
years, that it will be impossible to advertise the best business firms of the city, 
as it has been able thus far to do. This indifference we believe to be due 
largely to thoughtlessness of the result involved, and we therefore, at the 
beginning of the year, would call attention to the last six or eight pages of 
the Magazine as worthy of the interest of every loyal reader. 

ii. 

The editorial hand sadly grasps the editorial pen, and waits in suspense, 
for the ideas which, as of old, refuse to come. Sadly — for, alas ! vacation is 
over — vacation, which seemed in anticipation never-ending, but which was 
in the realization so fleeting. No matter where we spent it, whether within 
sound of ocean waves, or the sigh of mountain pines, or where the hum of 
busy city feet rebuked our idleness, it was vacation — and the last college 
vacation for many of us. 

We were not wholly idle. We remember with pain, even after the busy 
days which have followed, the shopping expeditions, and all the manifold 
preparations for the year of work. And then we read. As we lay in the 
hammock on those golden summer afternoons, we clasped "Social Evolu- 
tion" in our hands, and gradually the sense of unworthiness, which had 
oppressed us at intervals for the last six months, as we glanced at its unread 
pages, was lightened. Then, too, we forgot the summer glory, as we 
thrilled with the tragedy of poor Bessie Costrell's fate, or followed the 
course of "An Experiment in Altruism" with unabated interest to the 
close. 

And now vacation is over, and we who studied in desultory fashion the 
results of the educational methods of Yale and Princeton, as we paced the 
beach, take up once more our Economics and Greek, welcoming as we do 



34 THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 

so the new faces which are among us for the first time, sighing a little as 
Ave think of those whose places cannot be filled, but looking forward bravely 
and cheerfully to the year of work before us. 

in. 

Though empty classrooms and deserted libraries would betoken it, the 
summer recess is by no means a time of inactivity in Wellesley. The results 
of that activity are patent in many needed and wished-for improvements. 
The luxury of permanent board walks, which boast two extra planks of 
width, is not cheapened by the elegance of the sample of macadam, which 
exists as a presage of the future. Wire fences, to be sure, hardly add to the 
beauty of the landscape, and cannot expect to be cordially received, yet they 
are more polite, perhaps, and certainly more efficacious, than the diminutive 
signboards which are supposed to guard the grass. 

In one respect, at least, the friends of Wellesley will rejoice as heartily 
as we, — in that there is no longer any necessity for turning the staid and 
solemn reception room into a clothiers' warehouse. 

All these are blessings for which to be thankful, but we rejoice chiefly 
in the new light which is to be shed upon us. The night-time gropings in 
Stone Hall corridors will become as a myth and a tradition of ancient times ; 
while the diabolical tendencies of student lamps will no longer vex the souls 
of weary students. 

The spirit of progress is indeed rife among us, and who can deny that 
the time may come when elevators will be used for rapid transportation, 
rather than as educators of patience ; when the library shall be properly ven- 
tilated ; and when training in the domestic arts will not be required for a 
degree. 

IV. 

In the editorial world there are many themes prone to become stereo- 
typed ; and in a life lived over with little variation every four years, origi- 
nality itself is worn threadbare. Nevertheless, there is one subject, recurring 
with unequaled regularity, that is ever new and all-engrossing to two large 
classes. Be it a thing of the forgotten and insignificant past to the many 
who are gone, or an oft-repeated and tiring subject, to be looked on with 



THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 35 

condescension by those soon to come, to the Freshman and the Senior the 
cap and gown is ever awe-inspiring and revered. We feel that among all 
the improvements that have come to Wellesley for the new year, Ninety- 
six in her cap and gown should not be overlooked, and we pause here to 
pay both tribute. May they become congenial friends ; the cap and gown 
lending of its graces and dignities to the class who wears it, the class adding 
to those charms. 

FREE PRESS, 
i. 
With the inevitable shower, with the Sophomore and the Dean, the 
Christian Association early in the year gave its word of greeting to the new- 
comers. Now a month has passed ; we no longer count you strangers, but 
hope you feel your interests in college to be one with ours. Our Christian 
Association is the one organization to which every one may belong. It is 
the one expression of the Christian life of the College, uniting in itself the 
spirit of the Epworth and Westminster Leagues, the Christian Endeavor 
Society, and King's Daughters. Its aim is threefold : to aid us in our own 
Christian development, to unite us in sympathy to one another, and to pro- 
vide a way through which we may see and help the needs beyond our own 
college world. Thus we need its help as it needs our support. The Asso- 
ciation invites you all most cordially to join in its fellowship and work. 

Elizabeth Zieglek, 

President. 

Thekesa Huntington, 

Chairman Reception Committee. 
II. 

Doubtless we who have so recently said farewell to Alma Mater, are 
more impatient of any criticism of our beloved Wellesley than are the under- 
graduates, or those who have been longer in the chilling atmosphere of the 
wide, wide world. So optimistic is our mood, that though we may listen 
regretfully to the rumor that broad board walks, shining wire fences, and 
unsightly poles disfigure our grounds, we are certain that these seeming 



36 THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 

blots upon the landscape are valuable and necessary improvements. Having 
such perfect faith as regards all that pertains to the College Beautiful, it was 
hard to be compelled to hear a criticism made, this summer, by a member 
of one of the largest of the men's colleges. After becoming well acquainted 
with Wellesley and its inmates, he expressed great surprise at the apparent 
indifference with which one student looked upon those girls outside of her 
immediate circle of friends, and especially that more effort was not made to 
know the members of the Freshman class. He himself had been one of a 
number of fellows who made it their business to find out what men were 
homesick or lonely, and to get acquainted with those who were entire 
strangers, or were not well known. 

Such an organization would seem to be a most valuable "Society.*' 
To a shy, homesick girl, this great institution is one vast machine, " rolling* 
on in its dead indifference to grind one (me) limb from limb." The new 
girls who happen to be prominent receive a great deal of attention, often- 
times too much ; while their self-depreciative sisters, and the unfortunate 
students who must live in the village, not only know few of the older girls,, 
but are not even acquainted with those in their own class. 

Such words from one who is out of the hurry and rush of college life 
may seem amusing, and it is always easy to give advice ; but at the begin- 
ning of this new year, before the papers pile up and examination time 
approaches, it may be possible to make the slight personal effort which shall 
prove that we are not less thoughtful and sympathetic than our brothers. 

L. M. P., '95. 

in. 

It would seem that the first issue of the Magazine for the year might 
be allowed to go to press without protestations and complaints, and that this 
department might for once, at least, record only congratulations and rejoic- 
ings over the many improvements that meet us on every hand. Neverthe- 
less, the beginning of a new year is the time of times, sanctioned and set 
apart by tradition and history, for new resolutions and reforms ; and at such 
beffinnino- there is one reform which it would seem wise to brino- home to the 
earnest consideration of the students at Wellesley. 



THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 37 

It happened on one occasion last year to be the duty of the present 
writer to report, before a mass meeting of the students, upon the work of a 
certain committee. It was not a mass meeting called in a hurry to meet a 
sudden emergency, nor one on a subject so little known or of so' little general 
interest as to be unintelligible to the majority of the members of the College. 
On the contrary, the notices of that same mass meeting had been posted for 
ten days upon the bulletin boards of the several organizations, giving accu- 
rate information as to time, and place, and business to be transacted. The 
character of the business on hand was such that it should have appealed to the 
loyal interest of every girl in College, for it concerned no one class, nor 
department, nor line of college work, but was of equal importance, or should 
have been, to every member of the Wellesley community. And as a mem- 
ber of that community I blush to write that the attendance at that mass 
meeting numbered exactly seven, three of whom were the committee whose 
report was to be voted upon ! The Academic Council has as yet forgotten, 
or neglected, to specify the number required for a quorum at a mass meeting, 
and the transaction of business was therefore constitutional. But of what 
use is a mass meeting if not to find a means of expressing the will of the 
great " body politic " ? And how can the will of any seven people who come 
together by chance, not as elected representatives, be the will of over seven 
hundred ? We are given to finding fault because we have too little share in 
the management of our college life ; but it would seem that we are unwilling 
to claim the rights and privileges that are ours already, and refuse to bear 
the responsibilities that plainly belong to us. This is but one instance ; 
many another could be cited ; and it has been told because there is one ques- 
tion that should be asked at the beginning of the new year. Frankly, as 
Wellesley students and as women in the world, are we willing to accept the 
thinking of half a dozen people unquestioningly upon subjects not only of 
collegiate but of intercollegiate interests, and to let the results of their think- 
ing mould our college life ? Or are we bound, by everything that makes us 
glory in our womanhood, to take a broad and intelligent view of every ques- 
tion that presents itself to us, be ready to express that view when necessary, 
and stand or fall with the courage of our convictions? I make a plea for this 
last, a strong and earnest appeal, which, if rightly responded to, will remedy 
one great defect on the business side of our life, and make the results of 



38 THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 

mass meetings hereafter the true exponent of the spirit of the institution , 
whatever that may be. M. C. L., '96. 

IV. 

Some of the Freshmen find it very hard to make acquaintances when 
they first come to college. Instead of having a number of old friends always 
glad to see them, a perfect sea of strange faces meets them everywhere. 
Some of these strangers are in the same plight themselves, while the majority 
of the girls have made their friends, and do not seem to care to know any 
new people. It is hard for a Sophomore, however, to remember how much 
she enjoyed the attentions of the Sophomores of the year before. But if 
the girls who have been here before would put themselves into the places of 
these newcomers, and realize how a little thought could make the college a 
homelike place instead of a forbidding one, the Freshman y ear for many girls 
would be brighter and happier. 

A simple plan has been adopted by two Sophomores which has this very 
end in view. They invite the Freshmen whom they have met to come to 
their room on Saturday evenings, to sew or simply to talk and become 
acquainted with some of their Sophomore friends. Cannot more of the girls 
do the same? G. C, '96. 

v. 

There are still so many people in existence who are a little prejudiced 
against college girls, that perhaps our failings and shortcomings are noted 
with too much severity. Yet, knowing this, we should be especially careful 
that our failings should not be such as to create a bad impression of our 
College. I am sure that we all wish "VVellesley to have the respect of the 
outside world, and that we sing with sincerity, 

" A stainless name we will preserve her, 
Answer to her every call." 

But I sometimes wonder if we all realize how easy it is to mar the fair name 
which Wellesley bears to the world. Of course it is unjust to judge any in- 
stitution \>y only one or two of its members : yet we, ourselves, are continu- 
ally making such judgments, and the average person gains his idea of Wel- 
lesley simply from the one or more "Wellesley girls he has chanced to meet. 



THE WELLE 'SLEY MAGAZINE. 39 

I was forcibly impressed by this truth when I heard this summer that in a 
town where there had been several Wellesley girls some one said, " All 
Wellesley girls seem to be alike ; they are all so fresh and noisy." We who 
know Wellesley realize how absolutely untrue such a statement is ; but, with- 
out doubt, it created a strong prejudice against Wellesley in the minds of 
those who heard it. I cannot think that any Wellesley girl would willingly 
give foundation for such an idea of her College. Certainly it ought not to 
be a hard task for every one of us to do her part toward keeping Wellesley 
before the world in its best and truest light. C. W., '96. 

VI. 

There have been many phases of college life written about in these 
pages : but there is one I have never seen handled, and that is, the Christian 
life of the College. After personal experience at Wellesley, visits to other 
colleges, and conversations with other collegians, I have come to the conclu- 
sion that the religious life of the College is not maintained as earnestly as it 
should be. 

Large numbers of Freshmen come to Wellesley as sincere, but modest, 
Christians. For some reason or other the last thing we learn about them is 
that they love Christ. We get our first suspicion of this when we find them 
tucked away in the darkest corner of a class prayer meeting. 

Why is it that we are not earnest enough to " let our light shine" as 
soon as we get into college ? Why is it that we come to speak with such an 
unbearable upward inflection of a girl who " says she is going to be a mis- 
sionary"? Why is it that we soon grow to be so lax in keeping the few 
wholesome rules laid down for us ? Why is it that so many girls entirely 
lose their interest in Christianity when they have been in college only a few 
months ? 

In looking back upon my college years I feel confident that the reason for 
all these things lies partly in ourselves, as Freshmen, in not courageously 
taking our stand for Christ as soon as we enter college ; and partly in the 
girls ahead of us who speak slightingly of the class prayer meetings, the 
Christian Association, the Student Volunteers, and criticise "the minister." 
There is a band of girls which can always be counted on — the little circle 
who come from Northfield. We all acknowledge admiration and respect for 



40 THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 

them. Can we not emulate their sturdy faithfulness in upholding the 
Master's cause ? Oh, Christian girls of Wellesley ! Think of the times 
when, as a Freshman, your worshipful spirit has been stung by the thought- 
less words of an upper-class student ; and then think how, hardened by this 
treatment, you yourself may have given others a downward push in the same 
way : think, and then resolve never to let yourselves be blamed for this again. 
Let us find a place for Christ in our college life, or let us make it if we can- 
not find it. God never brought seven hundred girls together without expect- 
ing them to help each other to draw nearer to him. 

G. S. B., '97. 

VII. 

If during the famine in Egypt, Joseph had had the grain given out from 
a window in one of his barns, so that portions could have been assigned to 
but half a dozen men a day, the Egyptians would have been justified in de- 
manding a different mode of procedure for no other reason than a more 
speedy distribution. The answer that the window was the most convenient 
place for the purpose, and that the famine would be over and the demand for 
grain diminished in a few months, would have been no excuse for the use of 
the window before that time. To boycott Joseph or pull down the barn 
would have been excusable means to a necessary end. 

But that was previous to 1874. With the founding of Wellesley, 
Americanized Egyptians should have learned more scientific methods of deal- 
ing with the same subject, though we are somewhat at a loss to trace such 
results in their education. Joseph still does as he pleases; and the barn, 
the narrow window, the few bits of grain, and the countless, famine-stricken 
throng still play the same part in this tragic comedy of college life. If physi- 
cal maintenance were so serious a question at that time, might we not argue 
that mental maintenance, here, at least, holds now almost as high a place ? 

Our famine begins with the fall term, its duration depending upon the 
size of the exit for food; for though grain may grow also in Boston, our 
co-operative plant is here, and it is here we deal. 

It is not the crowd around the bookstore that we would object to, nor 
the congestion of the east corridor, nor the personal discomfort and injury in 
the rush for grain, nor the loss of time and benefits forgot upstairs, nor the 



THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 41 

physical, mental, and moral strain upon ourselves : these would be trifling- 
matters if Joseph could prove to us that his window is his only door, or that 
pushing out a side of his barn or moving into an adjoining lot were alike im- 
possible. But no attempts to change are made. Whether this is for a test 
of our patience or a tax upon the patience of those under whom we work, 
— our weakness froni lack of food having a strong reflex action upon them, — 
or whether it is because for a greater part of the time a need of the change is 
not felt, we do not know. What we do know is this, that nine out of every 
ten girls are unable to begin fairly in any course, simply because they cannot 
get what they need in time. 

The effect of this upon professor and pupil is too sensitive a point upon 
which to dwell further, and the remedy too simple even to suggest. 

B. S., '98. 

BOOK REVIEWS. 

The Story of Bessie Costrell, by Mrs. Humphrey Ward. Price, 75 
cents. New York : Macmillan & Co. 

' ' The Story of Bessie Costrell " is simply the story of the swift downfall 
and tragic end of a poor, commonplace life. John Bolderfield, an old 
laborer of a small English village, had saved a small hoard from his meager 
earnings, and in his simple heart he worshiped his treasure. The village 
eyes beheld him as a man of wealth, a miser; and when one autumn he 
quit the village for a time, and left his treasure box for safe keeping with 
his niece, Bessie Costrell, Bessie became the envy of the little community. 

Bessie's husband, Isaac, a leader in the Dissenting Chapel, was a quiet, 
dreaming man ; hard-working, and interested almost wholly in his religion. 
He overlooked Bessie's untidy, careless ways, and was secretly proud of 
his pretty, young wife. 

Soon after John's departure, rumor told of an aunt of Bessie's who had 
left her some money. Ere long the "Spotted Deer," the public house of 
the village, found Bessie every night within its doors, full of life, bonne 
camarade with all the world, treating every man in the village. 

Anon, John came home. Bessie's sin was found out. Haunted by the 
sense of her disgrace and by the shame of her punishment, goaded by 
Isaac's hatred and desertion, she sought death as her only escape. 



42 THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 

The plot verges on the trite, the commonplace. Its final outcome, in 
fact its development, is obvious from the outset. There is little chance for 
character study. Bessie is wholly superficial, inspiring only pity kept from 
contempt by the strain of fidelity to Isaac and her children running under- 
neath all her wrongdoing. In Isaac we find more of interest and of devel- 
opment than in any other character. Underneath the silent, self-controlled 
exterior, we do not suspect an overmastering temper, a man of violent pas- 
sion. And when we have seen him gentle, even loving, we are startled to 
find him so hard and unforgiving, so unmoved by pity. The unfolding of 
his character is done with much skill. 

Throughout the book dainty bits of description occur, delicate, sugges- 
tive. But in the end we are left with the feeling that we have touched a 
rough edge, and have left it unsmoothed. 



BOOKS RECEIVED. 

The Academy Song Boole, by Charles H. Levermore, Ph.D., assisted 
by Frederic Reddall, Director of Vocal Music in the Adelphi Academy of 
Brooklyn. Ginn & Co. 

Coleridge's Principles of Criticism: Chapters I., III., IV., XIV.— 
XXII. of " Biographia Literaria," with introduction and notes by Andrew 
J. George, M.A. D. C. Heath & Co. 

The Philosophy of School Management, by Arnold Tompkins, author 
of "The Philosophy of Teaching" and "The Science of Discourse." Ginn 
& Co. 

Graduate Courses 1895-96. Lists of advanced courses announced by 
twenty-one colleges or universities of the United States for the year. 
Compiled by an Editorial Board of graduate students. C. A. Duniway, 
Harvard, Editor in Chief. Price, 25 cents. Macmillan & Co., 66 Fifth 
Avenue, New York. 

Le Nabob, by Alphonse Daudet. Abridged and annotated by Benj. 
W. Wells, Ph.D. (Harvard). Ginn & Co. 

The July number of The Psychological Review contains an article entitled, 
" Wellesley College Psychological Studies." This includes the reports of 



THE WELLE8LEY MAGAZINE. 



two investigations, conducted in 1894, by members of the class in Experi- 
mental Psychology. The discussion by Miss Margaret B. Simmons of the 
"Prevalence of Paramnesia," is perhaps too technical for the ordinary reader, 
but the investigation of Miss Nevers is of great general interest. Dr. Jastrow, 
of Wisconsin University, had conducted an experiment in regard to the differ- 
ences between men and women, in their interests and in their modes of 
thinking. Miss Nevers repeated this experiment, and on many points 
reached directly opposite results. She does not attempt to base any theory 
upon her figures, but maintains, with manifest justice, that she has shown 
Dr. Jastrow's conclusions to rest on insufficient data. 



SOCIETY NOTES. 

A meeting of the Shakespeare Society was held in Shakespeare Hall 
on Saturday, September 28, at 7 o'clock. The following programme was 
presented : — 

Shakespeare News ...... Emily Johnson. 

Trio : Ye Spotted Snakes 

Geneva Crumb, Cornelia Park, Virginia Sherwood. 
Paper : Analysis of the Sonnets . . . Mabel Wells. 

Paper : Poetic Beauties of the Sonnets, and 

Shakespeare's Personality Shown in Them . Florence Painter. 
Songs from " Winter's Tale " .... Geneva Crumb. 

The following members were admitted into the Society : Maud Almy, 
Elizabeth Higgins, Mary Malone, Elizabeth MacMillan, Edna Patterson, 
Bessie Sullivan. 

The Agora had not held its first meeting before the Magazine went to 
print. 

The first meeting of the Society of Tau Zeta Epsilon was held in Tau 
Zeta Epsilon Hall, on Saturday evening, September 28. Miss Gertrude 
Bailey, '98, Miss Louise Barker, '98, Miss Margaret Weed, '98, and Miss 
Jeannette Morrow, '99, were initiated to membership in the Society. Miss 



44 THE WELLE SLEY MAGAZINE. 

Ruby Bridgman, '94, Miss Edna Pressey, '94, Miss Berta Welch, '95, 
Miss Alice Norcross, '95, and Miss Lulu Holden, Miss Lucy Willcox, and 
Miss Edith SaAvyer were present at the meeting. 

The first meeting of Society Phi Sigma had not occurred before the 
Magazine went to press. 

At the first meeting of Society Zeta Alpha, September 28, Miss Alice 
R. Wright and Miss Martha M. Smith were initiated. The following guests 
were present: Grace Addeman, '95, Belle Sherwin, '90, Cornelia Hunting- 
ton, '95, Helen Blakeslee, '95, Cora Stuart, '90, Miriam Newcoinb, '94. 

At the programme meeting of the Classical Society on Saturday evening, 
September 28, Miss Harriet Carter, '97, Miss Grace Chapin, '98, and Miss 
Marcia Smith, '98, were initiated into the Society. Mrs. Mary Chapin 
Bo wen and Miss Anna Chute, both of '95, were present at the meeting. 
The semester's study of Grecian centers of religious and literary influence 
was begun with a study of Delos.< 

I. Short talks on : — 

Latest News from Classic Lands. 
Excavations at Delos. 
The Delian Confederacy. 
The Sacred Embassy. 

II. The Delian Festivals of Apollo . . Julia D. Randall. 

III. Reading from the Homeric Hymn to the 

Delian Apollo ..... Irene Kahn. 



COLLEGE BULLETIN. 

Thursday, October 3. — Memorial Service. 
Saturday, October 12. — Sophomore Reception. 
Sunday, October 6. — Rev. W. E. Barton. 
Sunday, October 13. — Prof. Lewis B. Paton. 
Sunday, October 20.— Rev. E. L. Clark, D.D. 
Sunday, October 27. — Rev. C. R. Brown. 



THE WELLE SEE Y MAGAZINE. 45 



COLLEGE NOTES. 

The college year opened on Thursday, September 19, and class ap- 
pointments began the following Tuesday. Thanks to the schedule arrange- 
ments made last spring, much of the annoyance experienced during the first 
days of other years, when conflicting courses and the necessity of abandon- 
ing cherished electives brought dismay to most of the students, was unknown. 

During the summer about two thousand guests visited the College. 

Each summer brings its own changes and improvements to the buildings 
and grounds. To those who have done penance for several years upon stony 
or muddy paths, the new walks, especially the pavement along Chapel Hill,, 
are a source of great satisfaction. 

The new system of electric lighting throughout the grounds and houses 
is a most agreeable surprise, although the sight of poles and wires along the 
avenue is decidedly inharmonious. The center of College Hall, always 
beautiful, is doubly attractive with its incandescent lights at night, and the 
comfort and convenience of sufficient light will be thoroughly appreciated in 
the cottages, and in Stone Hall, where darkness has so long been visible. 

Room 21 has been changed into a coat room and lavatory for guests. 

A pleasant innovation this year was the establishment of a bureau of 
information by the Christian Association for the benefit of new students. So 
helpful and kindly a plan should have been put in operation long ago. 

Pamphlets of invitation to the parish of St. Andrew have been sent to 
all new students who have stated to the College that they have any connection 
with the Episcopal Church. 

The Dean of the College, Miss Stratton, will be the presiding officer of 
College Hall for the coming year. Miss Pendleton takes her place at Stone 
Hall." 

Professor Morgan is the head of Wood Cottage. 

Dr. Sophie Chantal Hart is now living in Wellesley. 

Dr. Grace Emily Cooley is settled in her new home in the village. 



46 THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 

Owing to ill health, Miss Pierce will be absent from the College Library 
for a year. 

Miss Goodloe's stories of Wellesley life, with their illustrations by C. D. 
Gibson, have now appeared in book form, under the title " College Girls." 

Professor of Literature : "I believe I have never seen your little 
girl, Tom." 

Tom (with pride) : "I believe you have never seen either of my little 
girls." 

The annual reception given by the Christian Association to the new 
members of the College, took place on Saturday evening, September 21. 
Mrs. Durant, Miss Stratton, and Miss Ziegler received. Lemonade was 
served, and the music of the Glee and Banjo Clubs gave pleasure to all. 

Despite the fact that College opened in the latter part of September, 
Flower Sunday was oppressively warm. The chapel was, as usual, bright 
with flowers, and light frocks, and new faces. The preacher for the day was 
Rev. John Balcom Shaw, D.D., and his text was the one always connected 
with this anniversary, " God is Love." At vespers Mr. Shaw made a brief 
address. 

On Tuesday evening, September 24, the Class of '98 held its first meet- 
ing. Miss Finlay was elected vice president. After the business had been 
transacted the class adjourned to serenade the Freshmen. The music was 
appreciated not only by the new students, but also by the upper classes, to 
whom Wellesley songs come each autumn as a pleasant welcome back to 
college life. 

The Senior Class held its first meeting of the year on Wednesday even- 
ing, September 25. The president, Miss Elva Hulberd Young, presided. 

Miss Stratton conducted the first meeting of the Christian Association, 
September 26. 

At a business meeting of the Magazine Board, held September 28, Miss 
Maude R. Keller was reappointed Alumnoe Editor, and Miss Helen Bennett 
elected as Special Editor in place of Miss Haskell, resigned. 



THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 47 

Rev. Dr. C. J. Laffin, F. R. G. S., medical missionary to South Africa, 
spoke in the chapel on Sunday, September 29, upon the people among 
whom he has labored. At the evening service he spoke feelingly of the 
progress of missionary work on the west coast. Dr. Laffin came at the re- 
quest of the Christian Association, and his addresses were the subject of 
deep interest. 

On Monday evening, September 30, all the classes assembled in the 
gymnasium to sing college songs. 

Dr. Ritchie has not returned this fall, owing to sudden and serious ill- 
ness in her family ; her absence is deeply regretted by her students and her 
friends at Wellesley. Dr. Ritchie's classes are conducted, during the pres- 
ent semester, by Miss Anna Boynton Thompson, of Radcliffe College and 
Thayer Academy, author of an important monograph on Fi elite. 

The English Literature Department opens the year with better heart 
and hope because of the delightful surprise provided for it by the '95 Edito- 
rial Board of The Wellesley Magazine. To their wise liberality it finds 
itself indebted for no less a gift than two hundred dollars. In accordance 
with the desire of the donors, their blessed little pink cheque will be ex- 
changed for rows of library books on the subject of English literature. It 
was well stipulated that a portion of the generous sum should be used in 
providing duplicates of those reference books most in demand. There will 
still remain a goodly amount for the new publications whose lack in the 
library has sorely harassed the teachers in the English Literature Depart- 
ment. These feel that they cannot give too warm and earnest an expression 
of their appreciative gratitude. They hope that, later on, the Magazine 
may grant them space to print the list of books selected. 

ALUMNA NOTES. 

The fourteenth annual meeting of the Western Wellesley Association 
was held in Chicago, Monday, September 16, at the Wellington Hotel. 
About forty in all wei"e present. The business meeting, at 12.30, was followed 
by a lunch. The lunch tables, decorated with sweet peas, were especially 
attractive to the youngest alumnae. Instead of the usual toasts, a musical 



48 THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 

programme, interspersed with recitations, was given. Professor Seeboeck 
and Mrs. Fred Bangs furnished the music, and Miss Mildred Lyon recited. 
The programme was closed with the Wellesley Annals by Miss May Pitkin, 
'95. At the business meeting the following officers were elected : President, 
May Pitkin, '95 ; Vice Presidents, Mary Williams Tyrell, Vennette Grain, 
'88 ; Recording Secretary and Treasurer, Alberta Baker, '96 ; Corresponding 
Secretary, Christine Caryl, '95 ; Annalist, Julia Lyman, '96. 

The following is a list of alumnae doing graduate work at ^"ellesley : 
Miss Annie J. Cannon, '84, Miss Ellen A. Vinton, '84, Miss Elizabeth 
Abbe, '88 ; Miss Anne Burgess, Miss Margaret Josephine Holley, Miss Anna 
B. Jenks, Miss Mary D. E. Lauderburn, and Miss Bertha E. Smith, '90 ; 
Miss Ellen Ware Fiske, Miss Mary E. Holmes, and Miss Maude Ryland 
Keller, '92 ; Miss Maria Kneen, '93, and Miss Katharine Fackenthal, '95. 

Miss Evelyn Hall, '79, Miss Eleanor Wolcott, 75-76, Miss Amelia 
Hall, '84, and Miss Martha Conant, '90, spent the summer together in travel 
on the Continent. 

Prof. Wilmot Metcalf and Mrs. Carrie Soule Metcalf, '80, and Miss 
Edith Metcalf, '80, are at present in Heidelberg. 

Miss Alice O. Dow, '85, is teaching in Mrs. Potter's school, Everett, 
Mass. 

Miss Ellen G. Means, '85, is teaching in Pennsylvania College for 
Women, Pittsburg, Penn. 

Miss Kate L. Clarke, '86, spent the summer studying and traveling 
in Germany, where she will remain during the winter. Miss Jessie Van 
Vliet, '85, was with Miss Clarke for a while in Gottingen. 

Miss Lucy Friday, '86, and Miss Lila North, Sp.,' 81-82, spent the 
summer traveling in Europe, and will be at Leipzig during the winter. 

Miss Ada G. Wing, '86, is doing graduate work in Biology at Brown 
University. 

Mrs. Annie Williams Walker, '86, spent September 19 at Wellesley. 

Miss Annie K. Emery, '87, is teaching in the school of Misses Whiton 
and Bangs, New York City. 



THE WELLE '8 LEY MAGAZINE. 49 

Miss Nannie J. McKnight, '87, visited Miss Merrill, '86, during Sep- 
tember, in Elberon, N. J. 

The address of Miss Mary Searle, '87, is " The Brexton," Baltimore, Md. 

Mrs. Mabel Wing Castle, '87, has returned with her little daughter to 
Honolulu, H. I. 

Miss Ella Smith, '88, delivered one of the addresses at the meeting of 
the colored women of the United States, held in Boston recently. 

Miss Caroline Fletcher, '89, is teaching Latin at Wellesley. 

Miss Alice Libby, '89, has returned from her year abroad, and will spend 
the winter at her home in Richmond, Me. 

Miss Harriet Pierce, '89, is teaching in the Latin High School, Worcester, 

Mass. 

Miss Eleanor Sherwin, '89, is teaching in the Scjence Hill School, Shel- 
' byville, Ky. 

Miss Annie S. Woodman, '89, is teaching in the High School, Mont- 
clair, N. J. 

The address of Miss Clare L. Wade, '89, is "The Garlock," Euclid 
Avenue, Cleveland, Ohio. 

Miss Alice C. Baldwin, '90, is teaching in the Latin School, Cambridge, 

Mass. 

Miss Emily F. Brown, '90, is teaching in the High School and Classical 
Institute, Schenectady, N. Y. 

Miss Martha P. Conant, '90, is teaching history, literature, and rhetoric 
in Mrs. Mead's School, Hillside, Norwalk, Conn. 

Miss Ruth S. Damon, '90, is teaching in Jones Seminary, All Healing, 

N. C. 

Mrs. Kent Dunlap Hiigler, '90, visited the College in August. 

Mrs. Mary Fitch Fuller, '90, was at Wellesley, September 28, on her 
way to Plymouth, where she is visiting. 



50 THE WELLE SLEY MAGAZINE. 

Miss Evangeline Hathaway, '90, is principal of the High School, New 
Bedford, Mass. 

Miss Mary J. Orton, '90, is teaching in the Williamstown, Mass., High 
School. 

Miss Wiggin, '90, and Miss Sadie McNary, '90, are teaching in the 
Newark, N. J., High School. 

Miss Clara Count, '91, is teaching in the High School, Somerset, Mass. 

Miss Louise Hannum, '91, and Miss Gertrude Wilson, '95, are teaching 
with Miss Knox in the Emma Willard School, Troy, N. Y. 

Miss Emogene Hazeltine, '91, spent Sunday, Sept. 22, at the College, 
and is enthusiastic over her work in the Prendergast Free Library, James- 
town, N. Y. 

Miss Harriet L. Jones, '91, is teaching in the High School, Jamestown, 
N. Y. 

Miss Minnie A. Morss, Miss Genevieve Stuart, and Miss Juliet Wall, 
all of '91, were hostesses for three weeks at Fernside Cottage Vacation 
House, Princeton, Mass. 

Miss Amy W. Mothershead, '91, is teaching in Miss Dana's School, 
Morristown, N. J. 

Miss Cora Perrine, '91, is in the Chicago University Library. 

Miss Sara M. Roberts, '91, is teaching. Address 1408 North Broad 
Street, Philadelphia. 

Miss Charlotte Sibley, '91, was one of the speakers at the Christian 
Endeavor Convention in Boston this summer. 

Miss Genevieve Stuart, '91, is teaching in Cumberland, Md. 

Miss Juliet Wall, '91, is working at Denison House, 93 Tyler Street, 
Boston . 

Miss Elizabeth Ward well, '91, is teaching in the Normal School, New 
Britain, Conn. 



THE WELLE SLEY MAGAZINE. 51 

Miss Ada S. Woolfolk, '91, has been appointed a school inspector in 
New York City. 

Miss Helena Cory, '91, Miss Martha Goddard, Miss Geraldine Longley, 
Miss Alice Pierce, '92, and Miss Bertha Longley, '94, are teaching in the 
English High School, Worcester, Mass. 

Miss Blanche L. Clay, '92, has completed her course in literary ex- 
pression, and will be at home devoting herself to writing. 

The address of Miss Gertrude Cushing, '92, is 32 Liberty Street, Room 
162, New York City. 

Miss Helen Cook, '92, spent the summer in England with Mrs. Sue 
Taylor Grinley, '91. 

Mrs. Harriet Damon Taylor, '92, expects to live in Paris for the next 
two years. Mr. Taylor is studying architecture. Address Mrs. Everitt 
Kilburn Taylor, 7 Honore Chevalier, Paris. 

Miss Belle Morgan, '92, spent a few days at Wellesley in July, and has 
now returned to her position at Northfield. 

Miss Emily Howard Foley, '93, has been studying at Oxford since 
August, and expects to return home in November. Mrs. Lucinda Prince, 
Sp., '91-93, visited Miss Foley in Oxford for a week in August. 

Miss Grace Grenell and Miss Ora Slater, both of '93, are teaching in the - 
Montclair, N. J., High School. 

Miss Delarue K. Howe, '93, will spend the year in Paris. Address, 
46 Rue Mozart, Passy, Paris. 

Miss Sue Huntington, Sp., '89-93, is teaching in Mrs. Gulick's School, 
San Sebastian, Spain. 

Miss Laura Jones, '93, with her sister, Miss Gertrude Jones, '95, spent 
the summer in Europe. 

Miss Alice Mae Reed, '93, is teaching in the Natick, Mass., High 
School. 



52 THE WELLE SLEY MAGAZINE. 

Miss Lila Tayler, '93, is teaching Mathematics in Stanton College, 
Natchez, Miss. 

Miss Annie Tomlinson, '93, is teaching in the High School, Brookline, 
Mass. 

Miss Sarah Bixby, '94, was at the College during September. 

Miss Lucy Brownell, '94, is teaching in Monson Academy, Monson, 

Mass. 

Miss Harriet Friday, '94, is teaching in Warren, Penn. 

Mrs. Frances Stuart De Motte, '94, of Ticonderoga, visited the College 
September 1. 

Miss Gertrude Barker, '95, is teaching in Plattsburg, N. Y. 

Miss Mary Grace Caldwell, '95, is teaching in the Plainfield, N. J., High 
School. 

Miss Caroline W. Jacobus, '95, is teaching in Leache-Wood Seminary, 
Norfolk, Va. 

Miss Lillian Jones, '95, is teaching Greek in Oxford College, Ohio. 

Miss Edith L. E. Jones, '95, is teaching in Riverside School, Auburn- 
dale, Mass. 

Miss Helen M. Kelsey, '95, and Miss Elizabeth Stark, '95, have been 
assisting Dean Stratton and Mrs. Butler during September. Miss Kelsey 
will do graduate work at Radclifte this year. 

Miss Alethea Ledyard, '95, is teaching in a private school, Danville, 

Ky. 

Miss Nina L. Marshall, '95, is teaching in the Misses Ely's School, 
New York City. 

Miss Bessie C. Mitchell, '95, is teaching in Barre, Mass. 

Miss Kate Nelson, '95, is teaching in the High School, Calais, Me. 

Miss Elizabeth G. Peabody, '94-95, is teaching in Miss Baird's Insti- 
tute, Norwalk, Conn. 



THE WELLE SLEY MAGAZLJSTE. 53 

Miss Julia E. Phelps, '95, is teaching in the High School, Pittsfield, 
N. H. 

Miss Bessie Smith, '95, is studying at the Library School, Albany, 
N. Y. 

Miss Marion Sykes, '95, is teaching in the Chicago public schools. 

Miss Harriet Blake, '94, with Miss May Belle Willis, Miss Bertha 
Morrill, Miss Mary C. Adams, and Miss Mabel Welhnan, '95, are in the 
Training Class, Brookline, Mass. 

Miss Martha T. Waterman, '95, is teaching in the High School, Middle- 
town, Conn. 

Miss Maud Millard, formerly of '96, is teaching in Oahu College, Hon- 
olulu, H. I. 

MARRIED. 

Gardner-Palmer. — On July 16, 1894, at H. B. M's Consulate, Kobe, 
before J. J. Enslie and E. J. Smithers, and on the following day at Christ 
Church, Osaka, by the Rev. H. D. Page, assisted by the Rev. L. B. 
Cholomondeley, the Rev. Graham Gardner to Caroline Emily Palmer, '79. 

Hughes-Barrett. — In Rochester, N. Y., Aug. 29, 1895, Annie Louise 
Barrett, '86, to Mr. Robert Lee Hughes. 

Hann-Dean. — At East Pierre, South Dakota, September 25, Miss Rosa 
Dean, '90, to Mr. Jay B. Hann. 

Rogers-Rogers. — In Taritfville, Conn., August 24, Helen Worthington 
Rogers, '91, to Mr. Arthur Kenyon Rogers. 

Bowen-Chapin. — At Saxton's River, Vermont, Sept. 10, 1895, Mary 
.Ella Chapin, '95, to Charles Ambrose Bo wen. 

Bigelow-Hardwick. — At Quincy, Mass., October 9, Came T. Hard- 
wick, '93, to the Rev. Edwin Victor Bigelow. 

Franklin-Tarbox. — August 15, Miss Violet Tarbox, formerly '98, to 
Louis W. Franklin, of Wellesley. At home, Waltham, Mass. 



54 THE WELLE8LEY MAGAZINE. 

BORN. 

May, 1895, a son to Mrs. Caroline Palmer Gardner, '79. 

July 22, 1895, a daughter, Margaret Winslow Murchie, to Mrs. Mina 
Rounds Murchie, '87. 

August 16, in New Haven, Conn., a son to Mrs. Bessie Blakeslee 
Tracy, '91. 

DIED. 

At Exeter, N. H., September 12, Miss Lora W. Lane, '86-89. 

In Cambridge, June 22, 1895, Mrs. Martha Wilkinson, trustee of 
Wellesley College from the time of its foundation, and for some time President 
of the Students' Aid Society. 

August 29, the Rev. E. D. Ledyard, father of Miss Alethea Ledyard, 
'95. 



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FIRST-CLKSS JaZORK. 

PROMPT DELIVERY. 


Razor, and Opera Toe, with and with- 
out extension soles. 


WE ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR LOSS BY FIRE. 

A postal will bring' our team to your door. 


C. E. BUCKLEY, 


7 and 9 Common St., NATICK, MASS. 


Odd Fellows Block, NATICK, MASS. 


D. A. MAHONY & SONS, 

Proprietors. 



The Dana Hall School, 



WELLESLEY, MASS. 

Pupils are prepared for regular or for special courses at 
Wellesley College. 

Price for Board and Tuition, $500 for the school year; 
Tuition for day pupils, $125. 

For further information address the Principals : 



Julia A. Eastman, 

Sarah P. Eastman. 



mUelleele^ Jpbarmaqp, 

CHARLES W. PERRY, 

Proprietor. 



Pure Drugs and Medicines. 



Physicians' Prescriptions a Specialty. 



VIOLETS 



J. TAILBY & SON, 

FLORISTS, 

Opposite Railroad Station, Wellesley. 



Flowers and Plants of the choicest varieties for all 
occasions; Palms, etc., to let for decoration. 

FLOWERS carefully packed and forwarded 
by Mail or Express to all parts of the United 
States and Canada. 

4Eg= Orders by mail or otherwise promptly attended to. 
Connected by Telephone. 



AD VERT1SJEMENTS. 



The Senior Class Photographer 

for Wellesley '94 and '95 

Was . . 

Charles W. Hearn, 



392 Boylston Street, 
Boston. 



Mr. Hearn thanks Wellesley students for 
the past two years for their valued patronage, 
and would be pleased to submit prices and 
samples, with a view to his possible selection 
as Class Photographer for Wellesley '96. 
Respectfully, 

Charles W. Hearn. 



Fine Millinery, 

VISIT 

GEORGE M. WETHERN, 

21 Temple Place, Boston. 

H. W. DOWNS & CO. 

143 Tremont St., Boston. 



FALL EXHIBIT 

French Hats and Bonnets, 

together with a choice selection of Foreign and 
Domestic Novelties for fall and winter. 

Also, full line of Dressmakers' Supplies. 



H. W. DOWNS & CO., 143 Tremont Street. 



WRIGHT & DITSON, 

344 Washington Street, Boston. 

Manufacturers of 

Fine Athletic Supplies. 

Every requisite for 

FOOTR A I I Golf ' Cricket > 

nis, r\J\J 1 Ur\L,L, Gymnasium, 



Baseball 
Lawn Ten 



and all other indoor or outdoor sports or pastimes. 
Send for illustrated catalogue. 






This New Coat, $7.50, 

Is made of excellent quality heavy Covert 
Cloth, beautiful tan color, stitched seams, 
high storm collar, shield front; is one of the 
most stylish garments thus far produced. 

Discount to Wellesley Students. 



GILCHRIST & CO. 

5 AND 7 WINTER STREET, BOSTON. 



AD VEBTISEMENTS. 



A Convincing Argument 

In favor of trading in Natick is the convenience of access 
by the electric cars, which run every half hour; also in 
the larger packages the saving of "expense by express, 
breakage, delays, etc. 



In my Framing Department I will allow a discount of 10 
per cent to Wellesley College Students. 

J. E. DeWITT, 

DEALER IN 

Books, Stationery, and Art Supplies, 

Also Manufacturer of 

Picture Frames, Mats, etc. 
No. 2 Main Street, NATICK, MASS. 




English Crockery, 

German and Austrian 

China, 
Japanese Novelties, 
5-0'clock Teas, 

Fancy Rockers, Tea Tables, 
Book Cases, Carpets, and Rugs. 



Complete House Furnishers. 

P. F. WOODBURY & CO., 

6 Main Street, NATICK. 



Free Delivery 



THE HORACE PARTRIDGE CO. 

335 Washington Street, Boston. 

College Athletic and Gymnasium Outfitters. 

TENNIS, GOLF. AND BASKET BALL GOODS. 
Crew Sweaters and Jerseys, which are also suitable for all athletic purposes, made to order in any 

style in the best manner. 
A Discount ot 10 per cent is given Wellesley students on individual orders. Special net rates for crew or team orders. 

New England Bureau of Education. 

If any graduate of Wellesley College should engage to teach five days in a week, and forty weeks 
in a year, at fifty dollars per day. she would have to teach a hundred years to earn the aggregate of sal- 
aries which have been secured to its members by the New Exglaxd "Bureau of Education", during the 
administration of its present manager. These thousands of teachers have been by us placed in positions 
in every State and Territory, and abroad. Now is the time to register. Wellesley graduates are popular 
at this office. Forms and circulars sent free. Address HIRAM ORCLTT, Manager, 3 Somerset St., Boston. 



We have a good stock of 

Veilings, Ribbons, 
Kid Gloves, 

Hosiery, . Cretonnes, . Drapery Muslins, 
and all kinds of embroidery sllks. 



We do Stamping at short notice. 

10 per cent Discount to all Wellesley College Students. 

J. B. LEAMY, Natick, Mass. 



Wellesley 
Steam Laundry 

Will call for and deliver clothes at all the College Buildings 



Plain Clothes by the dozen. 
Fancy Ironing by the hour. 
Xo bleach or acid used, but clothes dried in the 
open air, weather permitting. 

Fine work of all kinds a specialty. Clothes 
handled carefully and ironed neatly. 

A card to the Wellesley Steam Laundry will be 
promptly attended to. 

J. T. MELLUS, Prop. 



WOMAN'S MEDICAL COLLEGE 

OF THE 

NEW YORK INFIRMARY. 



Session '95-96 opens October 1, 1895. Four years, Graded Course. Instruction 
by Lectures, Clinics, Recitations and practical work, under supervision in Laboratories 
and Dispensary of College, and in N. Y. Infirmary. Clinics and operations in most of 
the City Hospitals and Dispensaries open to Women Students. 

For Catalogues, etc., address 

EMILY BLACKWELL, M.D., 

321 East l5thL Street, New York. 



FOOTWEAR 

All Styles in Razor, Picadilly, 
Opera, or Wide Toes. 



Button and Lace Boots and Oxford Ties 

For Street or Dress Wear. 
Slippers in Great Variety. 

Over Shoes and Boots of aii kinds. 

Prices as reasonable as possible 
consistent with good wearing 
qualities. 

Discount to Faculty and Students of 
Wellesley College. 



T. E. MOSELEY & CO. 



No. 469 Washington Street, 
Boston, Mass. 



New Fall Millinery. 

WE have a magnificent exhibit of artistic Millinery for 
Autumn, surpassing all previous displays. A bewilder, 
ing array of beautiful Hats, Bonnets and Toques, the 
latest creations of the Paris modistes, together with 
equally charming products of the dainty skill and in- 
genuity of our own corps of artists. 

Prices always reasonable. 

Shepard, Norwell & Company, 



Winter St. and Temple Place. 



BOSTON. 



MOREEN PETTIC0AT5. 

Our own Manufacture. 

Made with Silk Threads only. 

Black, White and Colors. 



SILK PETTICOATS. 



FIGURED TAFFETA. 
PLAIN TAFFETA. 

Petticoats to Order. 



STRIPED TAFFETA. 
BROCADED TAFFETA 



KNIGHTS' LINING STORE, 

E. R. KNIGHTS & CO., Proprietors, 

4! Avon St., BOSTON. 



In every department of our store we allow Wellesley Professors and 
Students a discount, generally 10 per cent. 

We deliver all goods free of express charges at Wellesley College and Dana Hall. 



During the year you will notice many attractive goods which your friends at home 
would be glad to see. We shall be glad to send samples at your request. 

Dress Goods, Hosiery, Neckwear, Millinery, 
Underwear and Art Embroideries 

are perhaps some of the departments most interesting to students, but the discount applies 
to every department. 

R. H. STEARNS & CO. 

Tremont Street and Temple Place, - - BOSTON, MASS. 




GEO. A. PLUMMER & CO. 
Ladies' and Children's 

Specialty Garment House. 



Young Ladies' Coats, Suits, 
Wraps, Fur Capes, Mackin- 
toshes, and Cravenette Gar- 
ments 



The Latest Paris and Berlin Novelties 

always in stock 

at moderate prices . . 



531 and 533 Washington Street, Boston. 

Next door to Boston Theatre. 



Frank Wood, Printer, Boston.